Entering, Lilly was surprised at the measured tempo of her voice and the
manner in which she permitted her eyebrows to arch ever so
superciliously.
"I'm looking for an engagement," she said, speaking through the ticking
of the typewriter.
The jaw ate in half an inch more of cigar and swung around in the
swivel.
"Voice?"
"Yes. High soprano."
He ran a swift cocked eye over her points and turned to the white-pine
table.
"Send her down to Visigoth," he said to the stenographer, who took up
where he left off.
She was as blond and as bland as a summer's day. A Pompadour dipped down
over one eye and her jaws moved as rhythmically as rigorously to gum
with a pull to it. She was herself caricatured. She and Lilly exchanged
that quickest of inventories, woman's for woman.
"Sign here."
Lilly signed.
"Ten dollars."
"Why?"
"Our rules. Ten dollars a year bureau membership, and fifty per cent of
first two weeks' salary."
"But what if--"
"We always place sooner or later."
"But in case--"
"Take this card down to the Union Family Theater, Union Square, and ask
for Robert Visigoth.
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