is statement of managerial tactics. "Mr. Kemp may have been
there to look at the show, but his chief reason for coming was to tell
me to beat it back to New York to enter into my kingdom. Fillmore wanted
me on the spot, he told me, so that I could sit around in this office
here, interviewing my supporting company. Me! Can you or can you not,"
inquired Miss Winch frankly, "tie it?"

"Well..." Sally hesitated.

"Don't say it! I know it just as well as you do. It's too sad for
words."

"You persist in underestimating your abilities, Gladys," said Fillmore
reproachfully. "I have had a certain amount of experience in theatrical
matters--I have seen a good deal of acting--and I assure you that as a
character-actress you..."

Miss Winch rose swiftly from her seat, kissed Fillmore energetically,
and sat down again. She produced another stick of chewing-gum, then
shook her head and replaced it in her bag.

"You're a darling old thing to talk like that," she said, "and I hate to
wake you out of your daydreams, but, honestly, Fillmore, dear, do just
step out of the padded cell for one moment and listen to reason. I know
exactly what has been passing in your poor disordered bean. You took
Elsa Doland out of a minor part and made her a star overnight. She goes
to Chicago, and the critics and everybody else rave about her. As a
matter of fact," she said to Sally with enthusiasm, for hers was an
honest and generous nature, "you can't realize, not having seen her
play there, what an amazing hit she has made. She really is a sensation.
Everybody says she's going to be the biggest thing on record. Very
well, then, what does Fillmore do? The poor fish claps his hand to his
forehead and cries 'Gadzooks! An idea! I've done it before, I'll do it
again. I'm the fellow who can make a star out of anything.' And he picks
on me!"

"My dear girl..."

"Now, the flaw in the scheme is this. Elsa is a genius, and if he hadn't
made her a star somebody else would have done. But little Gladys? That's
something else again." She turned to Sally. "You've seen me in action,
and let me tell you you've seen me at my best. Give me a maid's part,
with a tray to carry on in act one and a couple of 'Yes, madam's' in act
two, and I'm there! Ellen Terry hasn't anything on me when it comes to
saying 'Yes, madam,' and I'm willing to back myself for gold, notes,
or lima beans against Sarah Bernhardt as a tray-carrier. But there I
finish. That lets me out. And