He drew back then, for the star, after vigorously shaking herself, went to a tall brazier in which glowed a charcoal fire.
Here he now noticed for the first time the prop-boy Jimmie, he who had almost certainly defaulted with an excellent razor.

Jimmie threw a blanket about the star's shoulders as she hovered above the glowing coals.

Merton had waited for her voice.

He might still venture to speak to her--to tell her of his long and profound admiration for her art.

Her voice came as she shivered over the fire: "Murder! That water's cold.