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 We want to see Mr. Griesheimer, she explained. I have an appointment.

The boy telephoned the great man's secretary.

He'll see you in a minute, the boy announced. He asks will you please wait for him.

As they entered through a swinging gate Ambrose felt immediately that he had crossed a border into another world. Up and down the corridor in a variety of costumes passed a strange procession of actors in make-up. These mingled with boys with rolls of film in containers, secretaries with notebooks, and grey-haired men who resembled Wall Street brokers. One of the latter greeted Miss Six.

What are you waiting for, Auburn? Want to come in my office.

Thanks, Cliff, she replied, we'd be glad to. This is Mr. Deacon, Mr. Morrison.

Morrison led the way to his room, but before they had reached it a boy approached with a message that Mr. Griesheimer was ready to receive them.

Ambrose's heart was beating violently. Remember, he reassured himself, that it will soon be over and you will be free. It's like having a tooth pulled. The worst part is the anticipation.

The corridor seemed to be endless, but at last Auburn opened a door and they stood in the