" Hunt grinned. "That private pre-exhibition show you
suggested is proving the best publicity idea Graham ever had in his
musty old shop. Everywhere I go, people are talking about the darned
thing. Every man, woman and child, also unmarried females of both
sexes, who got invitations are coming--and those who didn't get 'em
are trying to bribe the traffic cop at Forty-Second Street to let 'em
in."
Hunt paused for a chuckle. "And I'm having the time of my young life
with the people who always thought I couldn't paint, and who are now
trying to sidle up to me on the suspicion that possibly after all I
can paint. What's got that bunch buffaloed is the fact that Graham has
let it leak out that I'm likely to make bales of money from my
painting. The idea of any one making money out of painting, that's too
much for their heads. Oh, this is the life, Larry!"
Larry started to congratulate him, but was instantly interrupted with:
"I admit I'm a painter, and always will admit it. But this present
thing is all your doing. We'll try to square things sometime. But I
didn't ask you to come along to hear verbostical acrobatics about
myself. I asked you to learn if you'd worked out your plan yet
regarding Maggie?"
"Yes." And Larry proceeded to give the details of his design.
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