In cold and dispassionate argument he explained to the irate Manager
the folly of ruining good material by injudicious use.
"You pay her as little as you can considering she is a draw. She does
the work of three people, including keeping the books when you are not
in a condition to wrestle with arithmetic. If you had your way she
would be cleaning out the stables."
"Bah!" sneered the other. "It would do her good--take the devil out of
her--hard work doesn't hurt that type. She's all wire and whipcord,
your She-Wolf, Poleski. Has she been snarling at you?"
"You'd better give her a week off," proceeded Emile, unmoved. "The
audience will be getting tired of her if you're not careful; she has
been on too long without a break. Get a fresh _artiste_ and take it
out of her salary. I shall give her a week's cruise round the harbour
and see what that will do."
"Well, try and put a little flesh on her bones," said the Manager
rudely. "I never saw such lean flanks! She's got the expression of a
death's head. It's a good thing the Spanish don't care for cheerful
grins or she wouldn't be here two days.
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