|HE caught up with her at the corner nearest Jim's--the same Sue he had first met, here in the Village, on a curbstone, eating an apple--wearing her old tarn o'shanter; good shoulders, no hips, well-shaped hands and feet; odd, honest deep-green eyes. She was a wreck from endless rehearsing she told him smilingly and ordered a big English chop and a bigger baked potato. These were good at Jim's. She ate them like a hungry boy. He offered her with inner hesitation, a cigarette. She shook her head. “Zanin won't let me,” she explained. “He says it's going to be a big hard job, coming right on top of all the work at the Crossroads, and I must keep fit.” “Zanin! Zanin!...” But Peter maintained his studied calm. “I've got the scenario in my pocket,” he announced, “I want to read it to you. And if you don't mind I'll tell you just why I want to.” “Of course I don't mind,” said she, with just one half-covert glance. “Tell me.” “Please hear me out,” said he. Her lids did droop a little now. This was the Eric Mann whose plays she had seen in past years and who had pounced on her so suddenly with a crazy avowal of love.... A man she hardly knew! He spoke quietly now and patiently; even with dignity. “We--you and Zanin and I--are starting a serious job.” “Yes, I know.” “Well, I began all wrong by taking a personal attitude toward you, and we quarreled rather absurdly...” “We won't speak of that,” said she. “Only to this extent: Any little personal misunderstandings--well, we've got to be businesslike and frank.... I'll tell you. This afternoon--just now, in fact--when I suggested to Zanin that I read it to the two of you, he objected. In fact he told me in so many words that you disliked me and didn't trust my understanding and that it would be necessary for him to act as a buffer between you and me.” “Oh,” said she quickly, “that's absurd, of course!” “Of course. He rather insisted on taking the scenario and reading it to you himself. Now that won't do.” “I don't care who reads it to me,” said Sue coolly. “Certainly not. Now, if you'll agree with me that there's nothing personal between us, that we're just whole-hearted workmen on a job, I...” She raised her eyebrows a little, waking. “...I came here with the idea of asking you to hunt Zanin up with me--making it a matter of company business, right now.” “Oh,” said she, her independent spirt stirred, “I don't see that that's necessary. Why don't you go ahead--just read it to me?” She looked about the smoky busy room. “But it's noisy here. And people you know come in and want to talk. I'd ask you around to the rooms, only...” “Only, Hy Lowe will be there.” Peter, feeling new ground under his feet, smiled. Sue smiled a little herself. “How about your place?” she asked them.