“You may have to work with him on the play.”
“Oh, he’ll appeal to me for help. He always does. We will do it together, only he will not know about the author.”
“You will have to come to rehearsals.”
“I’ll come as wife of the playwright, or co-author.”
“You’ve got it all thought out, haven’t you?”
“I have.”
“Sounds like a farce plot to me. Give me my instructions again. You want me to send for him, tell him to make a play out of this book—”
She smiled and nodded.
“Suppose he asks me who the author is?”
“You could say that she insisted upon preserving her anonymity.”
“What else do I do?”
“That’s all.”
“If this is your idea of a short interview with God, you certainly make good in dictating his policy to him!”
Bambi’s laughter rippled and sang.
“But you will do it?”
“I’ll make a start by calling the cabby.”
She rose and held out her hand.
