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 would not know. She telephoned to Soedlich’s studio from a drugstore booth.

A languid female voice identified itself as Mr. Soedlich’s secretary. Mr. Soedlich had little time free. Who was this? Did Mr. Soedlich know her? She was recommended by the Underwood Concert Corporation? A week from today at 6:30 in the evening was the only open time. No; there was positively no other time available. No; it would be no use to let them know later. The time prob- ably would be taken up by then. Very good. The name again, please? Miss R-E-I-T-Z. A week from today at 6:30. Thank you.

Dorothy spent several hours daily rehearsing with the monosyllabic Goldstein. He charged little for his services and he played better than any accompanist she had ever had. Now and then he would suggest a transposition to bring a song within her best range. He was impersonal and agreeable. He knew his business and he knew his place. There should have been more men like him in the concert field.

The Press Department sent her an envelope of leaflets containing her picture and her program. She was pleased with the announcement. She shoved it into the frame of her boudoir mirror. It was a good-looking leaflet. Her picture had come out beautifully. Oughtn’t she to phone Tommy and thank him? She didn’t know. Probably just as good not to. She put a few in one of her buff envelopes and sent them anonymously to Arnold. He’d like to see them.

Mrs. Loamford bestowed unqualified approval on the leaflet.

“I looked like that at your age,” she smiled.

She held up the printed sheet and admired it at arm’s length.