swamped in a pack of good-looking girls. I said why not try the legitimate stage—you know, Mrs. Tanqueray —that sort of stuff—but Babe just laughed—”
“Have you seen Jimmy at all?”
“Saw him this morning. Let me see, where was I? Oh, yes, I hadn’t got to the rumpus yet. And mind you it was jealousy—sheer, spiteful jealousy. The other girl wasn’t a patch on Babe for looks and she knew it. So she went behind her back—”
Bundle resigned herself to the inevitable and heard the whole story of the unfortunate circumstances which had led up to Babe St. Maur’s summary disappearance from the cast of Damn Your Eyes . It took a long time.
When Bill finally paused for breath and sympathy, Bundle said: “You’re quite right, Bill, it’s a rotten shame. There must be a lot of jealousy about—”
“The whole theatrical world’s rotten with it.”
“It must be. Did Jimmy say anything to you about coming down to the Abbey next week?”
For the first time, Bill gave his attention to what Bundle was saying.
“He was full of a long rigmarole he wanted me to stuff Codders with. About wanting to stand in the Conservative interest. But you know, Bundle, it’s too damned risky.”
“Stuff,” said Bundle. “If George does find him out, he won’t blame you. You’ll just have been taken in, that’s all.”
“That’s not it at all,” said Bill. “I mean it’s too damned risky for Jimmy. Before he knows where he is, he’ll be parked down somewhere like