’ ‘Ah, but there’s the little matter of your presence here,’ said Gerald on a note of apology. Posts were offered to all who chose to accept them. Then he sensed the trap. I was—I was a corespondent. “She has lost something,” he declared, “something which brought the men in crowds around the stage at the ‘Ambassador’s. "I'll see him fettered myself. ‘How the deuce did she get out without me seeing her?’ ‘Took advantage of the distraction, cunning little devil,’ Gerald snapped, racing down the corridor. "Manuscripts! Why, this chap is a writer, or is trying to be. " "That sounds funny … to play it with your feet!" McClintock laughed.
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