She looked up as she spoke, and fell silent. Smull’s fixed smile had become a fixed grin. Out of a red, puffy face two darkish little eyes rested on her with disconcerting intentness. “Look here, Eris, we don’t need Frank Donnell. It’s up to me, after all. Isn’t it?” Her lips unclosed, a trifle stiffly: “Why yes, I suppose so----” “Well then!” She met his grin with a forced smile. “Well?” she enquired, “have you chosen to discuss matters with me alone?” “You bet. That’s right, Eris. That’s what. You get my first curve for a homer, little girl.” He hunched his chair nearer to hers: “Look here, Eris; you can have pretty nearly what you want out of me. You want your own company for keeps? O. K.! You want to pick your director and your camera-man? That’s O. K. You want Frank Donnell? Sure!----” “But Betsy----” “Don’t worry. I pay his salary. I pay hers, too. If you want Frank----” “No, I don’t. I wouldn’t do such a thing----” “Puff! She’d do it to you. Didn’t she put you out of her company!” “She was right. It was perfectly understood by me----” “Say, sweetness, don’t you let anybody put that over. Betsy couldn’t stand your competition and she canned you. Now you can get back.” “Thank you, Mr. Smull, but I couldn’t.... Not that I--I care for Mr. Creevy very much----” “Bing! He’s out! Who do you want?” He hunched his chair closer: “And say, sweetness, are you getting enough per?” “What?” “Are you satisfied with your contract?” “Yes.” “You mean you don’t want a raise?” She said, rather bewildered: “I have signed for three years----” “Blaa! What’s a contract! You can have them both. Stick ’em in the fire. Is that right?” “But----” “Listen, my dear. You ought to get what Blythe’s getting the first year. After that we’ll see. What do you say?” “It is too kind of you----” “Let me worry over that. Are we set? You have what you want--anything you want. You fix it up and I’ll O. K. it. Is that right, sweetheart?” The girl looked at him in a dazed way. He left his seat, came over, seated himself on the arm of her chair. As she rose, instinctively, his arm brushed her bare shoulder. And now he also stood up, his hot, red features, and the grin and the little darkish eyes very close to her face. “See here, Eris,” he said thickly, “I’m crazy about you.” A slight chill possessed her, but she was calm enough. She said: “I’d rather not understand you, Mr. Smull.” The grin never altered: “Why not?” he demanded. “For one thing, if you honestly cared for me you wouldn’t have brought me here alone to say so.... For another----” she looked at him curiously; “--you are married, aren’t you?” “Is that going to matter when a man’s crazy about you----” “Slightly,” she said. “--Crazy enough,” he went on, ignoring her comment, “--crazy enough to tell you to hand yourself whatever you fancy? Do you get me right? You can have whatever----” “I don’t want anything,” she said wearily, moving toward the door.