“Are you all right?” She didn’t sound all right. Her voice was tight with tension.

“Could you stop by when you have a moment?”

“I’ll be right there.”

“They’ll let you in the stage door.”

Bell ran down the Knickerbocker’s grand staircase three steps at a time and set off a blast of horns, bells, and angry shouts as he ran through the moving wall of autos, streetcars, and horse carts that blocked Broadway. Sixty seconds after dropping the telephone, he pounded on the Victoria’s stage door.

“Miss Morgan is waiting for you in the house, Mr. Bell. Through there. Go in quietly, please. They’re rehearsing.”

A high-speed, rhythmic tapping echoed from the stage, and when he flung open the door he was surprised to discover that the source of all the noise was a small boy and a tall girl dancing in shoes with wooden soles. He exhaled in relief when he saw Marion sitting alone, safe and sound, in the eighth row of the partially darkened empty house. She pressed a finger to her lips. Bell glided up the aisle and sat beside her, and she took his hand, and whispered, “Oh, my darling, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“What happened.”

“I’ll tell you in a minute. They’re almost done.”

The orchestra, which had been waiting silently, burst into a crescendo, and the dance was over. The children were instantly surrounded by the director, the stage manager, costumers, and their mother.

“Aren’t they wonderful? I found them on the Orpheum Circuit in San Francisco. The top vaudeville circuit. I’ve persuaded their mother to let them appear in my new movie.”

“What happened to your movie about the bank robbers?”

“The detective’s girlfriend caught them.”

“I suspected she would. What’s wrong? You don’t sound yourself. What happened?”

“I’m not sure. I may be silly, but it seemed sensible to call you. Did you ever meet Katherine Dee?”

“She’s a friend of Dorothy Langner. I’ve seen her at a distance. I’ve not met her.”

“Lowell introduced her to me at the Michigan launching. She hinted that she would like to come out to the movie studio. It was on the tip of my tongue to invite her. She looks like she might be one of those creatures the camera is so fond of—you know, as I’ve told you, the large head, fine features, slight torso. Like that boy you just saw dancing.”

Bell glanced at the stage. “He looks like a praying mantis.”

“Yes, the narrow head, the big, luminous eyes. Wait ’til you see him smile.”

“I gather you did not invite Katherine Dee. What changed your mind?”

“She’s very strange.”

“How?”

“Call it what you will. Intuition. Instinct. Something about her does not ring true.”

“Never deny a gut feeling,” said Bell. “You can always change your mind later.”