"What's with you? This is Nellie." As though it was necessary to tell me who it was with that croak for a voice, even if she did wake me up. I lit a cigarette because she liked to talk for a long time and so do I and she was paying for the call and I didn't have anything else to do.

"I'm still in bed."

"Well, do you think you could get that long lean brownness the hell out of that bed for a job?"

"How much? It's a nice bed."

"Twenty-five a day for maybe three days or more. Of course, if you're not interested, I got a book full of youth and beauty right here at my elbow."

"If it's more of those smoker pictures, the answer is no."

"Now, Timmy, darling, you know that wasn't my fault. They told me that short was only for advertising purposes. Besides, the money was good."

"Well, I don't need that kind of advertising yet. What's the gag this time?"

"Can you be in my office in an hour?"

"Tell me now."

"I tell you nothing till you sign Nellie's little receipt book. Do you or don't you?"

"Make it an hour and a half?"

"Who's there with you?"

"Nobody," I said. "And besides, what's it to you?"

"If there's nobody there, you can make it in an hour. Eleven sharp. Those are my last words." And she banged up the receiver.

Twenty-five bucks a day for three days…that must be a picture… maybe I can get a close-up… be nice to the cameraman and the assistant director… one good close-up… who knows what might happen? Once more into the breach, dea