der years and
pimply exterior, who thawed and cast off a proud reserve on hearing
Sally's name, and told her to walk right in. Sally walked right in, and
found Fillmore with his feet on an untidy desk, studying what appeared
to be costume-designs.

"Ah, Sally!" he said in the distrait, tired voice which speaks of vast
preoccupations. Prosperity was still putting in its silent, deadly work
on the Hope of the American Theatre. What, even at as late an epoch as
the return from Detroit, had been merely a smooth fullness around the
angle of the jaw was now frankly and without disguise a double chin. He
was wearing a new waistcoat and it was unbuttoned. "I am rather busy,"
he went on. "Always glad to see you, but I am rather busy. I have a
hundred things to attend to."

"Well, attend to me. That'll only make a hundred and one. Fill, what's
all this I hear about a revue?"

Fillmore looked as like a small boy caught in the act of stealing jam
as it is possible for a great theatrical manager to look. He had been
wondering in his darker moments what Sally would say about that project
when she heard of it, and he had hoped that she would not hear of it
until all the preparations were so complete that interference would be
impossible. He was extremely fond of Sally, but there was, he knew,
a lamentable vein of caution in her make-up which might lead her to
criticize. And how can your man of affairs carry on if women are buzzing
round criticizing all the time? He picked up a pen and put it down;
buttoned his waistcoat and unbuttoned it; and scratched his ear with one
of the costume-designs.

"Oh yes, the revue!"

"It's no good saying 'Oh yes'! You know perfectly well it's a crazy
idea."

"Really... these business matters... this interference..."

"I don't want to run your affairs for you, Fill, but that money of mine
does make me a sort of partner, I suppose, and I think I have a right to
raise a loud yell of agony when I see you risking it on a..."

"Pardon me," said Fillmore loftily, looking happier. "Let me explain.
Women never understand business matters. Your money is tied up
exclusively in 'The Primrose Way,' which, as you know, is a tremendous
success. You have nothing whatever to worry about as regards any new
production I may make."

"I'm not worrying about the money. I'm worrying about you."

A tolerant smile played about the lower slopes of Fillmore's face.

"Don't be alarmed about me. I'm all right."

"Yo