is big, furrowed forehead supported on his
fist, a huge, odorous cigar in his mouth.

'I suppose Goldwater plays "Hamlet,"' he said.

'We have not discussed it yet,' said Pinchas airily.

Radsikoff smiled again. 'Oh, he'll pull through--so long as Mrs.
Goldwater doesn't play "Ophelia."'

'She play "Ophelia"! She would not dream of such a thing. She is a
saucy soubrette; she belongs to vaudeville.'

'All right. I have warned you.'

'You don't think there is really a danger!' Pinchas was pale and
shaking.

'The Yiddish stage is so moral. Husbands and wives, unfortunately,
live and play together,' said the old dramatist drily.

'I'll drown her truly before I let her play my "Ophelia,"' said the
poet venomously.

Radsikoff shrugged his shoulders and dropped into American. 'Well,
it's up to you.'

'The minx!' Pinchas shook his fist at the air. 'But I'll manage her.
If the worst comes to the worst, I'll make love to her.'

The poet's sublime confidence in his charms was too much even for his
admirers. The mental juxtaposition of the seedy poet and the piquant
actress in her frills and furbelows set the whole cafe rocking with
laughter. Pinchas took it as a tribute to his ingenious method of
drawing the soubrette-serpent's fangs. He grinned placidly.

'And when is your play coming on?' asked Radsikoff.

'After Passover,' replied Pinchas, beginning to button his frock-coat
against the outer cold. If only to oust this 'Ophelia,' he must be at
the theatre instanter.

'Has Goldwater given you a contract?'

'I am a poet, not a lawyer,' said Pinchas proudly. 'Parchments are for
Philistines; honest men build on the word.'

'After all, it comes to the same thing--with Goldwater,' said
Radsikoff drily. 'But he's no worse than the others; I've never yet
found the contract any manager couldn't slip out of. I've never yet
met the playwright that the manager couldn't dodge.' Radsikoff,
indeed, divided his time between devising plays and devising
contracts. Every experience but suggested fresh clauses. He regarded
Pinchas with commiseration rather than jealousy. 'I shall come to your
first night,' he added.

'It will be a tribute which the audience will appreciate,' said
Pinchas. 'I am thinking that if I had one of these aromatic cigars I
too might offer a burnt-offering unto the Lord.'

There was general laughter at the blasphemy, for the Sabbath, with its
privation of fire, had long since begun.

'Try taking inst