stretching her mouth to form an oval, dropping her jaw, twisting her lips to the right, to the left, rolling her eyes round and round. It was a perfect lesson in facial calisthenics, and Harrietta was thankful for it. Harrietta was interested in such things — interested in them, and grateful for what they taught her.

She told herself that she didn’t mind the stir that Lydia Lissome made when she was driven up in the morning in her great blue limousine with the two Japs sitting so straight and immobile in front, like twin Nipponese gods. But she did. She told herself she didn’t mind when the director said: “Miss Fuller, if you’ll just watch Miss Lissome work. She has perfect picture tempo.” But she did. The director was the new-fashioned kind, who spoke softly, rehearsed you almost