Probably

　　Probably, if you were to try it, they'd appreciate a bit of gall. Itwould show 'em you'd got pep. You go down there and try walkingstraight in. They can't eat you. It makes me sick when I see allthose poor devils hanging about outside these offices, waiting to getnoticed and nobody ever paying any attention to them. You push theoffice-boy in the face if he tries to stop you, and go in and make'em take notice. And, whatever you do, don't leave your name andaddress! That's the old, moth-eaten gag they're sure to try to pullon you. Tell 'em there's nothing doing. Say you're out for a quickdecision! Stand 'em on their heads!"Jill got up, fired by this eloquence. She called for her check.
　　"Good-bye," she said. "I'm going to do exactly as you say. Where canI find you afterwards?" she said to Nelly.
　　"You aren't really going?""I am!"Nelly scribbled on a piece of paper.
　　"Here's my address. I'll be in all evening.""I'll come and see you. Good-bye, Mr Brown. And thank you.""You're welcome!" said Mr Brown.
　　Nelly watched Jill depart with wide eyes.
　　"Why did you tell her to do that?" she said.
　　"Why not?" said Mr Brown. "I started something, didn't I? Well, Iguess I'll have to be leaving, too. Got to get back to rehearsal.
　　Say, I like that friend of yours, Nelly. There's no yellow streakabout her! I wish her luck!"
Chapter 10
1.
　　THE offices of Messrs Goble and Cohn were situated, like everythingelse in New York that appertains to the drama, in the neighborhood ofTimes Square. They occupied the fifth floor of the Gotham Theatre onWest Forty-second Street. As there was no elevator in the buildingexcept the small private one used by the two members of the firm,Jill walked up the stairs, and found signs of a thriving businessbeginning to present themselves as early as the third floor, wherehalf a dozen patient persons of either sex had draped themselves likeroosting fowls upon the banisters. There were more on the fourthfloor, and the landing of the fifth, which served the firm as awaiting-room, was quite full. It is the custom of theatricalmanagers--the lowest order of intelligence, with the possibleexception of the _limax maximus_ or garden slug, known to science--toomit from their calculations the fact that they are likely every dayto receive a large number of visitors, whom they will be obliged tokeep waiting; and that these people will require somewhere to wait.
　　Such considerations never occur to them. Messrs Goble and Cohn hadprovided for those who called to see them one small bench on thelanding, conveniently situated at the intersecting point of threedraughts, and had let it go at that.
　　Nobody, except perhaps the night-watchman, had ever seen this benchempty. At whatever hour of the day you happened to call, you wouldalways find three wistful individuals seated side by side with theireyes on the tiny ante-room where sat the office-boy, thetelephone-girl, and Mr Goble's stenographer. Beyond this was the doormarked "Private," through which, as it opened to admit some careless,debonair, thousand-dollar-a-week comedian who sauntered in with ajaunty "Hello, Ike!" or some furred and scented female star, the rankand file of the profession were greeted, like Moses on Pisgah, with afleeting glimpse of the promised land, consisting of a large desk anda section of a very fat man with spectacles and a bald head or ayounger man with fair hair and a double chin.