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"Middle name is Cynic but he's pretty young yet." "And the best looking thing," sighed Edwina pulling on her gloves, bored with her long silence. Graemer was thoughtful. "He's given me an idea," he announced suddenly. "Or perhaps it was Tom's gossip about him.
"Don't ball things up, Tommy," she murmured under her breath, "Leave it to us get out if you see he's still miffed with you Please come over here, Mr. Hamilt," she called softly. "I want you to meet Mr. Graemer." He looked as blonde as she, almost, ruddy, lithe, but somehow old. He did not smile at her greeting, he merely nodded.
Perhaps he would have actually gotten away from her only that that was the moment that Dulcie Dierckt opened the long French doors at the head of the little outside stairway and motioned down the steps to the excited man who was following her. "There's Mr. Graemer," she said; "here's some one to see you," she called wickedly, as she leaned across the balcony.
And so she sat for a long time underneath the ivy-locked gate, unheeding the happy babble of voices that floated out from the windows of the dear old house. The Sculptor Girl almost shook her to make her look up. "There's a man wants to see you. Awfully theatrical looking person. I've a hunch it's that beast Graemer. He wouldn't say. Just said he must see you." Felicia stiffened.
He shoved the disheveled Graemer out through the rear gate, the stable gate it happened to be open and he took an immense satisfaction in after years in remembering that it was the stable gate, did that cocky young lawyer!
"I hate for us to eat here, the food's so good," she murmured with the same plaintive note that makes the audience weep at the end of the third act of "The Juggler." "But I had a very special reason for wanting to come here," Graemer explained. He had to be a bit wary of the starchy things too, though he still had a figure in spite of his weight.
She gestured again, so imperiously that he obeyed, but with scant courtesy, and he did not look at all overjoyed at meeting the illustrious Mr. Graemer. He sat down however, ordered his luncheon and listened gravely enough to Edwina's chatter. "Have you seen me in 'The Juggler'? Aren't you willing to say I can act now? He never would " she turned to Graemer.
The play was scheduled to open very shortly and it seemed to him that it was going to be an easy success. All the way over to Brooklyn he had contemplated bill posters who were slapping their dripping brushes over great posters corking posters Graemer thought them, with their effective color scheme of dull greens and pale yellows. Almost any one would have commended those posters.
I feel vairee cowardly. You must send your Majesty-of-the-Law down to me. I am a little afraid alone. And tell Blythe to come. Tell him quickly. I do not like this job, so I must do it quickly." Felicia was absolutely wrong about why the erratic Graemer had come to see her.
The intensity of his manner when he pulled open the manager's door frightened the manager's stenographer into an unwilling admission that Mr. Graemer had just left for Brooklyn. And a dazed taxi starter, who decided that somebody's life must be at stake, remembered with much distinctness that the address, which Mr. Graemer had given some half hour before was Montrose Place, Brooklyn.
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