" That is to say, it had staggered along for
six weeks on Broadway to extremely poor houses, and after three weeks
on the road, had perished for all time, leaving Percy out of work.
Since then, no other English dude part having happened along, he had
rested, living in the mysterious way in which out-of-work actors do live.
He had a number of acquaintances, such as the amiable Burrows, who were
good for occasional loans, but Kirk Winfield was the king of them all.
There was something princely about the careless open-handedness of Kirk's
methods, and Percy's whole soul rose in revolt against the prospect of
being deprived of this source of revenue, as something, possibly Ruth's
determined chin, told him that he would be, should Kirk marry this girl.
He had placed Ruth at once, directly he had heard her name. He
remembered having seen her photograph in the society section of the
Sunday paper which he borrowed each week. This was the daughter of old
John Bannister. There was no doubt about that. How she had found her
way to Kirk's studio he could not understand; but there she certainly
was, and Percy was willing to bet the twenty dollars which, despite the
excitement of the moment, he had forgotten to extract from Kirk in a
hurried conversation at the door, that her presence there was not known
and approved by her father.
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