tell them it's nothing to do with me, but as long as my name is displayed
outside the theatre and I know how they feel about it, I feel a certain
responsibility. Now you are a very clever man, and a man of the world,
Mr. Wingate. What do you think about it?"

"I think that you are quite right," he declared, with satisfactory
emphasis.

"You don't know Mr. Maken, our manager, I suppose?" she enquired.

Wingate shook his head.

"As a matter of fact," he confessed, "I know very few theatrical people."

"What a pity you're not fond of the stage!" she sighed, with a world of
regret in her very blue eyes. "You might have a theatre of your own, and
a leading lady, and all the rest of it."

"It sounds rather fascinating," he admitted, "under certain
circumstances. All the same, I don't think I should like to make a
business of what is such a great pleasure."

"I thought, with American men," she said archly, "that their business
was their pleasure."

"To a certain extent, I suppose," he admitted, "but then, you see, I am
half English. My mother was English although she was married in America,
and I was born there."

"How did you manage about serving?" she enquired.

"I gave both a turn," he explained. "I turned out for England first and
then for America."

"How splendid of you!" she murmured, raising her fine eyes admiringly and
then dropping them in a most effective manner. "But wasn't it a shocking
waste of time and lives! Just fancy, in all those years, how many
undeveloped geniuses must have been killed without ever having had their
chance! How miserably upside down the whole world was, too! Four years
and more during which a supper party, except at a private house, was an
impossibility!"

"I suppose," Wingate admitted, a little staggered, "that taken from that
point of view the war was an unfortunate infliction."

"And after all," the young lady went on, "here we are at the end of it
very much as though it had never happened. Do you think they will be able
to stop wars in the future?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I suppose international differences must
be settled somehow or other. Personally, I think a wrestling match, or
something of that sort--"

"Now you're making fun of me," she interrupted reproachfully. "I see you
don't want to talk about serious things. Do you admire Miss Orford?" she
asked, indicating another musical comedy lady who was seated opposite,
and who had shown occasional signs of