Little more than twenty-four hours previously, all he had been concerned about was the production of his play by Bassett Oliver--here he was now, mixed up in a drama of real life, with Bassett Oliver as its main figure, and the plot as yet unrevealed.

And he himself was already committed to play in it--but what part?
Now that the others had gone, Copplestone began to feel strangely alone.
He had accepted Sir Cresswell Oliver's commission readily, feeling genuinely interested in the affair, and being secretly conscious that he would be glad of the opportunity of further improving his acquaintance with Audrey Greyle.

But now that he considered things quietly, he began to see that his position was a somewhat curious and possibly invidious one.

He was to watch--and to seem not to watch.

He was to listen--and appear not to listen.