g to do--rebuild the
Windsor or try and get another theater?"

* * * * *

The authors were all for rebuilding the Windsor. True, it would take
time, but it would be more satisfactory in every way. Besides, at this
time of the year it would be no easy matter to secure another theater at
a moment's notice.

To R. P. de Parys and Bromham Rhodes the destruction of the Windsor
Theater had appeared less in the light of a disaster than as a direct
intervention on the part of Providence. The completion of that tiresome
second act, which had brooded over their lives like an ugly cloud, could
now be postponed indefinitely.

"Of course," said R. P. de Parys, thoughtfully, "our contract with you
makes it obligatory on you to produce our revue by a certain date--but I
dare say, Bromham, we could meet Roly there, couldn't we?"

"Sure!" said Rhodes. "Something nominal, say a further five hundred on
account of fees would satisfy us. I certainly think it would be better
to rebuild the Windsor, don't you, R. P.?"

"I do," agreed R. P. de Parys, cordially. "You see, Roly, our revue has
been written to fit the Windsor. It would be very difficult to alter it
for production at another theater. Yes, I feel sure that rebuilding the
Windsor would be your best course."

There was a pause.

"What do you think, Roly-poly?" asked Miss Verepoint, as Roland made no
sign.

"Nothing would delight me more than to rebuild the Windsor, or to take
another theater, or do anything else to oblige," he said, cheerfully.
"Unfortunately, I have no more money to burn."

It was as if a bomb had suddenly exploded in the room. A dreadful
silence fell upon his hearers. For the moment no one spoke. R. P. de
Parys woke with a start out of a beautiful dream of prawn curry and
Bromham Rhodes forgot that he had not tasted food for nearly two hours.
Miss Verepoint was the first to break the silence.

"Do you mean to say," she gasped, "that you didn't insure the place?"

Roland shook his head. The particular form in which Miss Verepoint had
put the question entitled him, he felt, to make this answer.

"Why didn't you?" Miss Verepoint's tone was almost menacing.

"Because it did not appear to me to be necessary."

Nor was it necessary, said Roland to his conscience. Mr. Montague had
done all the insuring that was necessary--and a bit over.

Miss Verepoint fought with her growing indignation, and lost. "What
about the salarie