"Oh, I suppose so; as much as that rubber-tired igloo is mine.
They're my props, like the two British Peers on the box. Gee! I'd
like to stick chewing-gum in the side-whiskers of the tall one--
the one with the cramps in his elbows. His name's Riley, and he
gets nine dollars a week for looking like that. A man's board bill
isn't particular how it's made nowadays."

"How--FUNNY!" Lorelei was eying the speaker with undisguised
curiosity. "You're not a Frenchwoman?"

"Agnes Smith is the name. Decent by descent, but an actress by
advertising. What's YOUR game?"

"Um-m--My nose is straight; I don't limp; so I'm an actress by
force of feature."

"Married?"

"Hardly."

"Want to be?"

"Got to be."

Both girls laughed unaffectedly.

"I like you," said the dancer. "Do you mind if I get out of this
cast-iron corset and into a kimono when we get home?"