"Well, I've brought you a few things!" declared Gila, in a most
offensive tone. "Paul Courtland asked me to come and see what I could do
for you." She swung her moleskin trappings about and pointed to the
box. "I don't believe in giving money, not often," she declared, with a
tilt of her nasty little chin that suddenly seemed to curve out in a
hateful, Satanic point, "but I don't mind giving a little lift in other
ways to persons who are truly worthy, you know. I've brought you a few
evening dresses that I'm done with. It may help you to get a position
playing for the movies, perhaps; or if you don't know rag-time, perhaps
you might act--they'll take almost anybody, I understand, if they have
good clothes. Besides, I'm going to give you an introduction to a girls'
employment club. They have a hall and hold dances once a week and you
get acquainted. It only costs you ten cents a week and it will give you
a place to spend your evenings. If you join that you'll need evening
dresses for the dances. Of course I understand some of the girls just go
in their street suits, but you stand a great deal better chance of
having a good time if you are dressed attractively. And then they say
men often go in there evenings to look for a stenographer, or an actor,
or some kind of a worker, and they always pick out the prettiest. Dress
goes a great way if you use it rightly. Now there's a frock in here--"
Gila stooped and untied the cord on the box.
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