Eris listened, unaware that he was poking fun at himself. Her shadowy eyes were intent on his in the starlight. The white, sharp contours of her face interested him. He was alert for any word or tone or gesture done for dramatic effect. “So that’s your story, then,” he said in his gay, agreeable voice. “You are a little pilgrim of Minerva in quest of Wisdom, travelling afoot through the world with an empty wallet and no staff to comfort you.” “I understand what you mean,” she said. “Minerva was goddess of Wisdom. We had mythology in high-school.” He thought: “She’s a clever comedienne or an utter baby.” He said: “Is that really all there is to your story?” “I have no story.” “No ill-treatment at home to warrant your running away?” “Oh, no.” “Not even an unhappy love affair?” She shook her head slightly as though embarrassed. “How old are you?” “Twenty in April.” Annan was silent. He had not supposed her to be over seventeen. She had seemed little more than a child in the starlight when she sat up ruffling her bobbed hair in the first tepid breeze. She said seriously: “I am growing old. And if I have talent I have no time to waste. That is why I went away at the first opportunity.” “What are your talents?” “I dance. I have acted in school plays. Once I wrote a one-act piece for myself. They liked it.” “Go ahead and tell me about it.” She told him how she had written the act and how she had sung and danced. Stimulated by the memory of her little success, she ventured to speak of her connection with the Crystal Films. Then, suddenly, the long-pent flood of trouble poured out of her lonely heart. “I drove over to Summit,” she said, “where they had been shooting an exterior. Mr. Quiss introduced me to Mr. Donnell, the director. Mr. Donnell said that they were just leaving for Albany on location, and he couldn’t give me a test. So I went to Albany the next morning--I just packed my night-clothes and walked all the way to Gayfield to catch the six o’clock morning train. It was my first chance. I seemed to realise that. I took fifty dollars I had saved. I have spent thirty of it already. “At Albany Mr. Donnell had a test made of me. It turned out well. He offered me a contract. I telephoned to my stepmother and told her what I had done. I explained that I needed money.... I have some money of my own. But my father wouldn’t let me have it. I wrote several times, but they only told me to come home. They wouldn’t let me have any money. “Then, when the company arrived at the New York studio, Mr. Donnell seemed to be in trouble. We were not paid. I heard Mr. Quiss say that the principals had received no salary for a month. He said that Mr. Donnell had not been paid, either. The carpenters who were building sets refused to go on until they had their wages. Somebody cut off the electric current. Our dynamo stopped. We stood around all day. Somebody said that the bankers who owned the Crystal Films were in financial difficulties.