“So I do, and so I shall. It’ll be much easier when I’m married. I expect a man like that knows people who could help me, and, anyway, he’s got a good job, and I wouldn’t have to work, so I’d have plenty of time to look.”

Gladys’ eyes goggled.

“But he’s not the sort of man to let his wife work in films.” Sheila spoke with complete confidence.

“Any man will do anything for a girl he’s in love with.”

“But he’s in love with Barbara.”

Sheila gave Gladys a sideways glance. Then she slipped off the table and came round to her.

“If I had the chance to see him I’d soon have him. Barbara’s pretty, but she’d never try about a man. She thinks she’s just got to be herself and that’ll be enough. I don’t know, of course, but I’ve got an idea it’s never enough with any man.” She put an arm round Gladys. “Why don’t we help each other?”

Gladys was hypnotized and fascinated by Sheila’s confidence in herself, and by the relief of hearing her love for Donald spoken of. As a secret in her own heart, it seemed less real than now when Sheila, as it were, pulled it out and laid it on the table as a visible object.

“How?”

Sheila was still holding the letter. She shook it.

“Well, what’s inside this? You see, I’ve got to know when he’s getting leave. Somehow I’ve got to meet him, and that’s going to take some arranging.”

“How can you help me?”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I could probably do quite a lot about you. I could tell you something you haven’t thought of.”

Gladys thought of the expression, ‘a thieves’ agreement’, and was revolted, but at the same time a voice in her said, ‘Why not? Why not snatch at any help you can get? It’s for happiness for all your life.’

“What could you tell me?”

Sheila lolled against the table, and spun a plate.

“If I help you, will you help me, let me know every bit of news, and all that?”

“Yes.”

“Swear.”

Gladys gave an impatient shrug of her shoulders.

“I’m not a child, I’ve promised. Go on.”

“Well, if Janet thought that Donald belonged to you . . . you know, had made you think he was fond of you, she’d never look at him again. She’s that sort.”

Gladys gazed fascinated at Sheila’s back. Her entire lack of conscience was almost frightening.

“How could I make her think that?”