" in surprise.

"Yes. If you don't mind, I think I'll have to tell you some personal
history."

"Go ahead. I wish I could think where I had heard that fellow's name."

"He submitted a play to you, called 'Success.'"

"What--the cab-driver? You mean to say you're married to the
cab-driver?"

"Cab-driver?"

"The 'Success' fellow came in here, in a long coat and a top hat. Said
he was driving a hansom to help a friend and incidentally turn a penny
himself. Big, handsome, blond fellow. I remember, I liked him."

Surprise, pain, then understanding, flashed across her face, and somehow
the manager knew that he had betrayed a secret to her and that it hurt.
She controlled herself quickly, and answered him.

"Yes, that was Jarvis. We were married last spring, and we both set out
on a career. I kept mine a secret, and just by luck I succeeded. But
Jarvis"--here her eyes filled with tears--"you've no idea how hard it is
to be a playwright! Everybody thinks what a snap it is to collect
royalties when you are a Broadway favourite, but they don't know all
those terrible days and nights before you get there, and what it means
if you never do get there."

"I know," he nodded. "So you want to give this fellow the chance to make
this play?"

"I want to more than I ever wanted anything in my life."

"Well, well!" he said, in surprise at her earnestness.

"I want you to send for him, give him the commission, and never mention
me."

"Why not?"

"I do not want him to know that I had anything to do with it."

"He doesn't know you wrote the book?"

"No."

"And you're married to him, you say?"

She nodded.

"Upon my word, you're a queer pair! Are you Francesca, and is he the
musician of the story?"

"Well, they are based on us, rather."

He laughed.

"Dear, kind Mr. Frohman, will you do this?"

"I told the fellow to try his hand at a comedy. He might handle this, if
we could hold him down. Awful preacher, isn't he?"

"He's young," she answered patronizingly. The manager covered a smile.

"Won't he recognize himself and you in the book?"

"I think not. He's so unobserving, and he does not suspect me at all.
He'll never know."

"You may have to work with him on the play."

"Oh, he'll appeal to me for help. He always does. We will do it
together, only he will not know about the author."

"You will have to come to rehearsals."

"I'll come as wife of the playwright, or co-author."

"You've got it all thoug