He praised him till
Kedzie began to think him worth cultivation, especially as he proposed
to flood the country with portraits of Kedzie as the Breathasweeta
Girl.
The muse of advertising swooped down and whispered to Gilfoyle
the delicious lines to be printed under Kedzie's smile.
Kiss me again. Who are you?
You use Breathasweeta. You must be all right.
Kalteyer was swept off his feet. He ran to the bank while Kiam raised
Gilfoyle's salary.
The life-size card of Kedzie was made with a prop to hold it up. It
was so much retouched and altered in the printing that her own father,
seeing it in a Nimrim drugstore, never recognized it. Nearly every
drug-store in the country set up a Kedzie in its show-window.
The Breathasweeta came into such demand that Kalteyer was temporarily
bankrupted by prosperity. He had to borrow so much money to float
his wares that he had none for Kedzie's entertainment.
Mr. Kiam took her up as a valuable model for advertising purposes.
He aroused in Kedzie an inordinate appetite for pictures of herself.
All day long she was posed in costumes for various calendars, as
a farmer's daughter, as a society queen, as a camera girl, as
a sausage nymph, and as the patron saint of a brewery.
In a week she had arrived at classic poses in Greek robes. One by one
these were abbreviated, till Kedzie was being very generally revealed
to the public eye.
The modesty her mother had whipped into her was gradually unlearned
step by step, garment by garment, without Kedzie's noticing the change
in her soul.
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