“Girls. " This simple admission disarmed McClintock. She was not very clear about the position and duties of a chorus-girl, but it certainly had the air of being a last desperate resort. "I knew him at once. ” “You know,” he said with some hesitation, “that your sister is singing. A moment more and he would have been crushed beneath the ponderous board, when a slight but strong arm arrested its descent. ” She glared at Sebastian over the drawing table where she was sketching in chalk, then over at the fifteen year old boy who was asleep in a disheveled pile of rushes in the corner.
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