--"That'll have to be fixed--yes, it will, my little
sweetie. My, how nice and fresh you are!" And his great
nostrils, repulsively hairy within, deeply pitted without,
sniffed as if over an odorous flower.
Susan drew her hand away. "What will they give me?" she asked.
"How greedy it is!" he wheedled. "Well, you'll get plenty--plenty."
"How much?" said the girl. "Is it a salary?"
"Of course, there's the regular salary. But that won't amount to
much. You know how those things are."
"How much?"
"Oh, say a dollar a night--until you make a hit."
"Six dollars a week."
"Seven. This is a Sunday town. Sunday's the big day. You'll have
Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday matinees, but they don't pay for them."
"Seven dollars a week." And the hospital wanted ten. "Couldn't
I get--about fifteen--or fourteen? I think I could do on fourteen."
"Rather! I was talking only of the salary. You'll make a good
many times fifteen--if you play your cards right. It's true
Schaumer draws only a beer crowd. But as soon as the word flies
round that _you_'re there, the boys with the boodle'll flock in.
Oh, you'll wear the sparklers all right, pet."
Rather slowly it was penetrating to Susan what Mr. Blynn had in
mind. "I'd--I'd rather take a regular salary," said she. "I must
have ten a week for him. I can live any old way."
"Oh, come off!" cried Mr. Blynn with a wink.
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