He felt that he was becoming screen wise.

And Henshaw had remembered him.

The cast of The Blight of Broadway might not be jewelled with his name, but his work would stand out.

He had given the best that was in him.
He watched the entrance of Muriel Mercer, maddest of all the mad throng, accompanied by the two young men and the girl who was not so beautiful.
He watched her lose steadily, and saw her string of pearls saved by the elderly scoundrel who had long watched the beautiful girl as only the Wolf of Wall Street could watch one so fair.

He saw her leave upon his arm, perhaps for further unwholesome adventure along Broadway.