him?"

"Not now. Tell him to come back later."

"Say! That John Danton is some character. Why don't you let him have
the gal?"

"Because--well, because it doesn't happen in real life, and I've tried
to make this play real, more than anything else."

When Norma Berwynd and her husband arrived Phillips had completely
regained his composure, and he greeted them cordially. The woman
seemed awed, half-frightened, by her sudden rise to fame. She seemed
to be walking in a dream, and a great wonder dwelt in her eyes. As for
Francis, he returned the author's greeting curtly, making it plain
that he was in no agreeable temper.

"I congratulate you, Phillips," he said. "You and Norma have become
famous overnight."

The open resentment in his tone angered the playwright and caused him
to wonder if their long-deferred clash was destined to occur this
morning. He knew himself to be overwrought, and he imagined Francis to
be in no better frame of mind; nevertheless, he answered, pacifically:

"If that is so we owe it to your art."

"Not at all. I see now what I failed to detect in reading and
rehearsing the piece, and what you neglected to tell me, namely, that
this is a woman's play. There's nothing in it for me. There's nothing
in my part."

"Oh, come now! The part is tremendous; you merely haven't got the most
out of it as yet."

Francis drew himself up and eyed the speaker coldly. "You're quoting
the newspapers. Pray be more original. You know, of course, how I
stand with these penny-a-liners; they never have liked me, but as for
the part--" He shrugged. "I can't get any more out of it than there is
in it."

"Doubtless that was my fault at rehearsals. I've called this one so we
can fix up the weak spot in the third act."

"Well! We're on time. Where are the others?" Francis cast an inquiring
glance about.

"I'll only rehearse you and Mrs. Francis."

"Indeed!" The former speaker opened his mouth for a cutting rejoinder,
but changed his mind and stalked away into the shadowy depths of the
wings.

"Please make allowances for him," Norma begged, approaching Phillips
in order that her words might not be overheard. "I've never seen him
so broken up over anything. He is always unstrung after an opening,
but he is--terrible, this morning."

There was trouble, timidity, and another indefinable expression in the
woman's eyes as they followed the vanishing figure of her husband;
faint lines appeared at the corners of h