er teeth biting the
pillow-case to choke back the sounds so that the grouch in the next room
might not hear.

Presently the leading lady's right hand began to grope about on the
bedspread for her handkerchief. Failing to find it, she sat up wearily,
raising herself on one elbow and pushing her hair back from her
forehead--not as you have seen a leading lady pass a lily hand across her
alabaster brow, but as a heart-sick woman does it. Her tears and
sniffles had formed a little oasis of moisture on the pillow's white
bosom so that the ugly stripe of the ticking showed through. She gazed
down at the damp circle with smarting, swollen eyes, and another lump
came up into her throat.

Then she sat up resolutely, and looked about her. The leading lady had a
large and saving sense of humor. But there is nothing that blunts the
sense of humor more quickly than a few months of one-night stands. Even
O. Henry could have seen nothing funny about that room.

The bed was of green enamel, with fly-specked gold trimmings. It looked
like a huge frog. The wall-paper was a crime. It represented an army of
tan mustard plasters climbing up a chocolate-fudge wall. The leading
lady was conscious of a feeling of nausea as she gazed at it. So she got
up and walked to the window. The room faced west, and the hot afternoon
sun smote full on her poor swollen eyes. Across the street the red brick
walls of the engine-house caught the glare and sent it back. The
firemen, in their blue shirt-sleeves, were seated in the shade before the
door, their chairs tipped at an angle of sixty. The leading lady stared
down into the sun-baked street, turned abruptly and made as though to
fall upon the bed again, with a view to forming another little damp oasis
on the pillow. But when she reached the center of the stifling little
bedroom her eye chanced on the electric call-button near the door. Above
the electric bell was tacked a printed placard giving information on the
subjects of laundry, ice-water, bell-boys and dining-room hours.

The leading lady stood staring at it a moment thoughtfully. Then with a
sudden swift movement she applied her forefinger to the button and held
it there for a long half-minute. Then she sat down on the edge of the
bed, her kimono folded about her, and waited.

She waited until a lank bell-boy, in a brown uniform that was some sizes
too small for him, had ceased to take any interest in the game of chess
whic