ht. The Fourth Act will seem all nonsense to them."

"True. And I was so good, so much myself in that Act." He turned to
Prosper. "You--fool!"

"Or there's another way," began the author. "We might----"

And then a gentleman in the gallery settled it from the front of the
curtain. There was nothing in the programme to show that the play was in
four Acts. "The Time is the present-day and the Scene is in Sir Geoffrey
Throssell's town-house," was all it said. And the gentleman in the
gallery, thinking it was all over, and being pleased with the play and
particularly with the realism of the last moment of it, shouted.
"Author." And suddenly everybody else cried, "Author! Author." The Play
was ended.

* * * * *

I said that this was the story of a comedy which nearly became a
tragedy. But it turned out to be no tragedy at all. In the three Acts to
which Prosper Vane had condemned it the play appealed to both critics
and public, for the Fourth Act (as he recognised so clearly) was
unnecessary, and would have spoilt the balance of it entirely. Best of
all, the shortening of the play demanded that some entertainment should
be provided in front of it, and this enabled Mr. Levinski to introduce
to the public Professor Wollabollacolla and Princess Collabollawolla,
the famous exponents of the Bongo-Bongo, that fascinating Central
African war dance, which was soon to be the rage of society. But though,
as a result, the takings of the Box Office surpassed all Mr. Levinski's
previous records, our friend Prosper Vane received no practical
acknowledgment of his services. He had to be content with the hand and
heart of the lady who played _Winifred_, and the fact that Mr. Levinski
was good enough to attend the wedding. There was, in fact, a photograph
in all the papers of Mr. Levinski doing it.

XVI. THE DOCTOR

"May I look at my watch?" I asked my partner, breaking a silence which
had lasted from the beginning of the waltz.

"Oh, _have_ you got a watch?" she drawled. "How exciting!"

"I wasn't going to show it to you," I said. "But I always think it looks
so bad for a man to remove his arm from a lady's waist in order to look
at his watch--I mean without some sort of apology or explanation. As
though he were wondering if he could possibly stick another five minutes
of it."

"Let me know when the apology is beginning," said Miss White. Perhaps,
after all, her name wasn't White, but, anyh