n off the bridge in the dark, and been
drowned; it could very easily happen. Well, then comes the most
difficult part of the whole thing; I have got to connect the casualty
with Haxard in the most unmistakable way, unmistakable to the audience,
that is; and I have got to have it brought home to him in a supreme
moment of his life. I don't want to have him feel remorse for it; that
isn't the modern theory of the criminal; but I do want him to be anxious
to hide his connection with it, and to escape the consequences. I don't
know but I shall try another dinner-scene, though I am afraid it would
be a risk."

The actor said, "I don't know. It might be the very thing. The audience
likes a recurrence to a distinctive feature. It's like going back to an
effective strain in music."

"Yes," Maxwell resumed, "slightly varied. I might have a private dinner
this time; perhaps a dinner that Haxard himself is giving. Towards the
end the talk might turn on the case of the unknown man, and the guests
might discuss it philosophically together; Haxard would combat the
notion of a murder, and even of a suicide; he would contend for an
accident, pure and simple. All the fellows would take a turn at the
theory, but the summing-up opinion I shall leave to a legal mind,
perhaps the man who had made the great complimentary speech at the
public dinner to Haxard in the first act. I should have him warm to his
work, and lay it down to Haxard in good round fashion, against his
theory of accident. He could prove to the satisfaction of everybody that
the man who was last seen with the drowned man--or was supposed to have
been seen with him--according to some very sketchy evidence at the
inquest, which never amounted to anything--was the man who pushed him
off the bridge. He could gradually work up his case, and end the
argument with a semi-jocular, semi-serious appeal to Haxard himself,
like, 'Why, suppose it was your own case,' and so forth, and so forth,
and so forth, and then suddenly stop at something he notices queer in
Haxard, who is trying to get to his feet. The rest applaud: 'That's
right! Haxard has the floor,' and so on, and then Haxard slips back into
his chair, and his head falls forward---- I don't like death-scenes on
the stage. They're usually failures. But if this was managed simply, I
think it would be effective."

The actor left the table and began to walk about the room. "I shall want
that play. I can see my part in Haxard. I