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Then on a Monday morning he found the waiting-room empty and his friend beyond the window suffering the pangs of headache. "It gets me something fierce right through here," she confided to him, placing her finger-tips to her temples. "Ever use Eezo Pain Wafers?" he demanded in quick sympathy. She looked at him hopefully. "Never heard of 'em." "Let me get you some." "You dear thing, fly to it!"
People might have headaches almost any time. He wondered if his friend the casting director were subject to them. He must carry a box of the Eezo wafers. He strolled down the street between the rows of offices and the immense covered stages. Actors in costume entered two of these and through their open doors he could see into their shadowy interiors. He would venture there later.
He did not hope to find his friend again stricken with headache, but if it chanced that she did suffer he hoped to be the first to learn of it. Was he not fortified with the potent Eezo wafers, and a new menthol pencil, even with an additional remedy of tablets that the druggist had strongly recommended?
Would you like that?" Would he! "Thanks!" He managed it without choking, "If I wouldn't be in the way." "You won't. Go on amuse yourself." The telephone rang. Still applying the menthol she held the receiver to her ear. "No, nothing to-day, dear. Say, Marie, did you ever take Eezo Pain Wafers for a headache? Keep 'em in mind they're great. Yes, I'll let you know if anything breaks. Goo'-by, dear."
He went out through the office, meaning to thank the casting director for the great favour she had shown him, but she was gone. He hoped the headache had not driven her home. If she were to suffer again he hoped it would be some morning. He would have the Eezo wafers in one pocket and a menthol pencil in the other. And she would again extend to him the freedom of that wonderful city.
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