But
mind, not a word to any one."
He started out, but he came back.
"Look here," he said. "Where do we come in on this anyhow?
Suppose I do think of somthing--what then? How are we to know
that your beloved and his manager will thank us for buting in,
or do what we sugest?"
Again I drew myself to my full heighth.
"I am a person of iron will when my mind is made up," I
said. "You think of somthing, Carter, and I'll see that it is
done."
He gazed at me in a rapt manner.
"Dammed if I don't beleive you," he said.
It is now late at night. Beresford has gone. The house is
still. I take the dear Picture out from under my mattress and
look at it.
Oh Adrien, my Thespian, my Love.
JANUARY 21ST. I have a bad cold, Dear Dairy, and feel
rotten. But only my physicle condition is such. I am happy
beyond words. This morning, while mother and Sis were out I
called up the theater and inquired the price of a box. The man
asked me to hold the line, and then came back and said it would
be ten dollars. I told him to reserve it for Miss Putnam--my
middle name.
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