For fifteen minutes she lay there, motionless, a pathetic figure of utter despondency. The minutes might have lengthened into hours, when suddenly a hurdy-gurdy in the street below started to play a popular air. Often the most trivial and commonplace incident will change the entire current of our thoughts. It was so in this instance. The cheap music had the effect of instantly galvanizing the young actress into life. It suddenly occurred to her that she was ravenously hungry. She rose from the bed, went to the wardrobe and took out a box of crackers. Then opening the window, at the same time humming the tune of the hurdy-gurdy, she got a bottle of milk that was standing on the sill outside and placed it on the table. Next she went to the washstand and rinsed out a tumbler. While thus engaged, there came a timid knock at the door. Startled, not knowing who it could be, unwilling that strangers should detect the traces of tears, she went quickly to the dresser and powdered her nose. The knocking was repeated. "Come in!" she called out, without turning round. The door opened and Jim Weston appeared. He halted on the threshold, holding the knob in his hand. "May I come in?" "Hello, Jim! Of course you may. I'm awfully glad you came. I was feeling horribly blue. Any luck?" The advance agent came in, closing the door carefully behind him. "Lots of it," he grinned. "That's good," exclaimed Laura, who was still at the mirror arranging her hair. "Tell me." "It's bad luck--as usual. I kind o' felt around up at Burgess's office. I thought I might get a job there, but he put me off until to-morrow. Somehow those fellows always do business to-morrow." Laura closed the window, shutting out the sound of the street music, which now could be heard only faintly. Grimly, she said: "Yes, and there's always to-day to look after." Going up to him, she said kindly: "I know just how you feel. Sit down, Jim." He took a seat near the table, and accepted a dry cracker which she offered him. As he munched it, Laura went on: "It's pretty tough for me, but it must be a whole lot worse for you, with a wife and kids." The agent made a wry face. "Oh, if a man's alone he can generally get along--turn his hand to anything. But a woman----" "Worse, you think?" He eyed her a moment without replying. Then he said: "I was just thinking about you and what Burgess said." "What was that?" asked the girl indifferently, as she sipped her milk. The agent cleared his throat. With an air of some importance, he said: "You know Burgess and I used to be in the circus business together. He took care of the grafters when I was boss canvas man. I never could see any good in shaking down the rubes for all the money they had and then taking part of it. He used to run the privilege car, you know." Laura looked puzzled. "Privilege car?" she echoed.