said the long man, "what about?"

Jones laughed.

"That sovereign which I put on the table and which I have put back in my
pocket. I must apologise. Had I gone away before you returned that would
have been left behind to show that your room had been entered neither by
a hobo nor a burglar, nor by some cad who had committed an
impertinence--perhaps you will believe that."

The long man bowed.

"But," went on Jones, "by a man who was driven by circumstances to seek
hospitality without an invitation."

The other had suddenly remembered the ham and had risen and was helping
himself, his pince-nez which he wore on a ribbon and evidently only for
reading purposes, dangling against his waistcoat-buttons.

"By circumstance," said he, "that is interesting. Circumstance is the
master dramatist--are you interested in the Drama?"

"Interested!" said Jones. "Why, I _am_ a drama. I reckon I'm the biggest
drama ever written, and that's why I am here to-night."

"Ah," said the other, "this is becoming more interesting still or
promising to become, for I warn you, plainly, that what may appear of
intense interest to the individual is generally of little interest to
the general. Now a man may, let's say, commit some little act that the
thing we call Justice disapproves of, and eluding Justice finds himself
pressed by Circumstance into queer and dramatic positions, those
positions though of momentary and intense interest to the man in
question would be of the vaguest interest to the man in the stalls or
the girls eating buns in the gallery, unless they were connected by that
thread of--what shall we call it--that is the backbone of the thing we
call Story."

"Oh, Justice isn't bothering after me," said Jones--Then vague
recollections began to stir in his mind, that long glabrous face, the
set of that jaw, that forehead, that hair, brushed back.

"Why, you're Mr. Kellerman, aren't you?" said he.

The other bowed.

"Good heavens," said Jones, "I ought to have known you. I've seen your
picture often enough in the States, and your cinema plays--haven't read
your books, for I'm not a reading man--but I've been fair crazy over
your cinema plays."

Kellerman bowed.

"Help yourself to some cheese," said he, "it's good. I get it from
Fortnum and Masons. When I stepped into this room and saw you here, for
the first moment I was going to kick you out, then I thought I'd have
some fun with you and freeze you out. So you're American