get a play on Broadway, and it isn't likely that I'm going to chuck away
my chance when it comes along just because one might do better in the
way of casting."

"But, Jerry! Mabel Hobson! It's... it's murder! Murder in the first
degree."

"Nonsense. She'll be all right. The part will play itself. Besides,
she has a personality and a following, and Cracknell will spend all the
money in the world to make the thing a success. And it will be a start,
whatever happens. Of course, it's worth it."

Fillmore would have been impressed by this speech. He would have
recognized and respected in it the unmistakable ring which characterizes
even the lightest utterances of those who get there. On Sally it had not
immediately that effect. Nevertheless, her habit of making the best of
things, working together with that primary article of her creed that the
man she loved could do no wrong, succeeded finally in raising her
spirits. Of course Jerry was right. It would have been foolish to refuse
a contract because all its clauses were not ideal.

"You old darling," she said affectionately attaching herself to the
vacant arm once more and giving it a penitent squeeze, "you're quite
right. Of course you are. I can see it now. I was only a little startled
at first. Everything's going to be wonderful. Let's get all our chickens
out and count 'em. How are you going to spend the money?"

"I know how I'm going to spend a dollar of it," said Gerald completely
restored.