"You might do worse than be a friend to her.

She is not, I am afraid, very happy." Hillyard was surprised at the sudden gentleness of his companion's voice, and looked quickly towards him.

Hardiman answered the look as he got heavily up from his chair.
"I sometimes fear that I have some responsibility for her unhappiness.
But there are things one cannot help." The light in the auditorium went down while Hardiman was leaving the box, and the curtain rose on the third act of "The Dark Tower." Of that play, however, you may read in the files of the various newspapers, if you will.

This story is concerned with Martin Hillyard, not his work.

It is sufficient to echo the words of Sir Chichester Splay when Hillyard was introduced to him an hour and a half later in the private supper-room at the Semiramis Hotel.
"A good play, Mr.Hillyard.Not a great play, of course, but quite a good play," said Sir Chichester with just the necessary patronage to tickle Hillyard to an appreciation of Hardiman's phrases--a ten and six-penny Mecaenas.
"I am grateful that it has earned your good opinion," he replied.
"Oh, not at all!" cried Sir Chichester, and catching a lady who passed by the arm.