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Ferriday excused himself, but said that the air would be good for Miss Adair. She was working too hard. So she took the air. Dyckman had come to the studio with Charity's business as an excuse. He had forgotten to give the excuse, and now he had forgotten the business. He did not know that he was now Kedzie Thropp's business. And she was minding her own business.
A girl washing dishes brought shrieks of laughter at the little things she did the struggle with the slippery soap, the recoil from the hot plate, the carelessness with the towel. Ferriday had not talked to Kedzie two minutes before she was wringing her hands with excitement. He was discovering her to herself. He told her the story of a picture he wanted to put her in.
It was a bad beginning, but better than a hopeless ending. After several gasps of hesitation she finally made her plea: "I'm awfully sorry to have to trouble you, Mr. Ferriday, but I'm Well, could you lend me twenty-five dollars?" "My dear child, take fifty," he cried.
"I'm only a beginner. I don't know anything at all." "Why, you're a genius!" Dyckman exploded. "You're simply great. You know everything; you " Ferriday touched him on the arm. "We mustn't spoil her. There is a charm and meekness about her that we must not lose." Dyckman swallowed his other great's and after profound thought said, "Let's lunch somewhere."
When she had calmed herself a little she said: "But it would mean a frightful lot of money." "Whatever it costs, it's cheap considering this." He indicated her arm about his neck. "I wouldn't let the world be robbed of the pictures of you, Anita, not for any money." He told her to tell Ferriday to make the arrangements and send the estimates to him.
It took time, however, to get Kedzie from the studio to the negative, then to the positive. There was editing to do, and it seemed to her that her most delicious bits had to be cut out, because Ferriday always took three or four thousand feet of film for every thousand he used.
I'll do my best to get him interested in me, and you do your best to get him interested in the business; and then when the time is just right we can talk turkey. But not now, Ferri, not yet." "You're as wise as you are beautiful," said Ferriday, again. "I can't see your beauty, but your wisdom shines in the dark. We'll do great things together, Anita."
So you're the Adair thing that Ferriday is gone half-witted over. He's just been talking my ear off about you. Sit down. Stop where you are. Let me see you. Turn around. I see." She turned to the stately dame. "Rather nice, isn't she, Mrs. Congdon? H'mm!" She beckoned Kedzie to come close. "What are your eyes like?" She lorgnetted the terrified girl, as if she were a throat-specialist.
Ferriday soon learned this and protected her from her own helpless vice of discontent. She lapsed always from her enthusiasm after it was once cold. As an actress she would have been one of those frequent flashers who give a splendid rehearsal or two and then sink back into a torpor. She might have risen to an appealing first-night performance. Thereafter, she would have become dismal.
There was a quality in her work that surpassed Ferriday's expectations and made her pantomime singularly legible. The modulations of her thought from one extreme mood to another were always traceable. This was true of the least feelings. Ferriday would say: "Now you decide to telephone your lover. You hesitate, you telephone, a girl answers, you wait, he speaks, you smile."
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