She thought of her home, of her mother, her father, Edna and Butch, with a dull and temperate regret. Since that first afternoon she had never attempted to revisit them, and she felt now no inclination toward returning. Still, her thoughts yearned back to the miserable flat as to an assured shelter: there, at least, she had been safe from rude weather and positive hunger. As things were with her, another week would find her destitute, but there was still the chance that something would turn up within that week. She felt almost sure that something would turn up. In this incurable optimism resided almost her sole endowment for the career of an actress: this, and a certain dogged temper which wouldn't permit her to acknowledge defeat until every possible expedient had been explored.... Toward evening she heard footsteps on the stairs. To her surprise they paused by her door, upon which fell a confident knock. Jumping up from her bed in a flurry, she answered to find Quard on the threshold. No one had been farther from her thoughts. She stared, agape and speechless. "Hello, Miss Thursday!" said the actor genially. "Can I come in?" He entered, cast a comprehensive glance round the poor little room, deposited his hat upon the bed and himself beside it. Leaving the door open, and murmuring some inarticulate response, Joan turned back to her one chair. "Hope I don't intrude," Quard rattled on cheerfully. "The girl told me the Deans was out and you in, so I took a chance and said I'd come right up." "I--I'm sorry Maizie isn't home," stammered the girl. "I ain't." Quard's eyes looked her over with open admiration. "I didn't want to see either of 'em, really. What I wanted was a little confab with you." "With _me_!" "Surest thing you know. I wanta talk business. I don't guess you've landed anything yet?" Joan shook her head blankly. "Well, I got a little proposition to make you. Yunno that sketch I wrote and you liked so much the other night?" "Yes...." "Well, I got hold of Schneider yesterday, and read it to him, and he says he can get me four or five weeks' booking at least, if I can put it over at the try-out. How does that strike you?" "Why--I'm glad," Joan faltered, still mystified. "It must be fine to get something to do." "Well, I haven't got it yet; and of course, maybe I won't get it. One of the first things you gotta learn in this business is, never spend your pay envelope till you got it in your mitt. And in this case, a lot depends on you." "I don't get you," Joan returned frankly. "What've I got to do with it?" Quard smiled indulgently, offered her a cigarette, which she refused, and lighted one for himself. "If I can't get you to play the woman's part," he said, spurting twin jets of smoke through his nostrils, "it's all up--unless I can hitch up with summonelse just like you." "You mean--you want _me_ to--to act--?"