ut yourselves in my place. I come to London. I hear a
vast deal of chatter about some articles in a paper called _The Echo_ by
some one calling himself 'Sampson Straight.' I also hear that nobody in
London knows who Sampson Straight is. As I happen to _be_ Sampson
Straight, and as I have need of all possible personal prestige for the
success of my purely patriotic mission, it occurs to me--in a flash!--to
assert that I am the author of the famous articles.... Well, what more
natural?

CULVER. What indeed?

STRAIGHT (_to_ Tranto). And may I say that I'm the only genuine Sampson
Straight in the United Kingdom, and that in my opinion it was a gross
impertinence on the part of your contributor to steal my name? Why did
you let him do it?

TRANTO (_beginning reflectively_). Now _I_ hit on that name--not my
contributor. It was when I was down in Cornwall. I caught sight of it in
an old yellow newspaper in an old yellow hotel, and it struck me at once
what a fine signature it would make at the bottom of a slashing article.
By the way, have you ever been in the dock?

STRAIGHT. Dock?

TRANTO. I only ask because I seem to remember I saw your splendid name
in a report of the local Assizes.

STRAIGHT. Assizes?

TRANTO. A, double s (_pause_) i-z-e-s.

STRAIGHT. I can afford to be perfectly open. I was--at one period of my
career--in prison, but for a quite respectable crime. Bigamy--with
extenuating circumstances.

MRS. CULVER (_greatly upset_). Dear, dear!

STRAIGHT. It might happen to any man.

CULVER (_looking at_ Mrs. Culver). So it might.

STRAIGHT. Do you wish to detain me?

TRANTO. I simply haven't the heart to do it.

STRAIGHT. Then, ladies and gentlemen, I'll say good morning.

HILDEGARDE (_stopping_ Straight _near the door as he departs with more
bows_). Good-bye! (_She holds out her hand with a smile_!) And good
luck!

STRAIGHT (_taking her hand_). Madam, I thank you. You evidently
appreciate the fact that when one lives solely on one's wits, little
mishaps are _bound_ to occur from time to time, and that too much
importance ought not to be attached to them. This is only my third slip,
and I am fifty-five.

(_Exit, back_.)

MRS. CULVER (_to_ Hildegarde, _gently surprised_). Darling, surely you
need not have been quite so effusive!

HILDEGARDE. You see, I thought I owed him something, (_with meaning and
effect_) as it was I who stole his name.

MRS. CULVER (_utterly puzzled for a moment; then,