The storm of Mary Magna stopped long enough for her to stare from
one to another of us. "What? You mean nobody's got him? And you all
standing round here, not signing any contracts? You, Edgerton--you
haven't run to the telephone to call up Eternal City? Well, as it
happens, T-S is going to be here in five minutes--his wife is being
made beautiful once again somewhere in this scalping-shop. Take my
advice, Mr. Carpenter, and don't sign today--the price will go up
several hundred per week as long as you hold off."

Mary stopped again; and this was most unusual, for as a general rule
she never stopped until somebody or something stopped her. But she
was fascinated by the spectacle of Carpenter. "My good God! Where
did he come from? Why, it seems like--I'm trying to think--yes,
it's the very man! Listen, Billy; you may not believe it, but I was
in a church a couple of weeks ago. I went to see Roxanna Riddle
marry that grand duke fellow. It was in a big church over by the
park--St. Bartholomew's, they call it. I sat looking at a stained
glass window over the altar, and Billy, I swear I believe this Mr.
Carpenter came down from that window!"

"Maybe he did, Mary," I put in.

"But I'm not joking! I tell you he's the living, speaking image of
that figure. Come to think of it, he isn't speaking, he hasn't said
a word! Tell me, Mr. Carpenter, have you got a voice, or are you
only a close up from 'The Servant in the House' or 'Ben Hur'? Say
something, so I can get a line on you!"

Again I stood wondering; how would Carpenter take this? Would he bow