Presently he hailed a tall, bearded man, grim-browed and rather battered-looking, who had his opera cloak on his arm and his hat in his hand, and who seemed to be on the point of leaving the theatre.
"MacConnell, let me introduce Mr.Bartley Alexander.

I say! It's going famously to-night, Mac.

And what an audience! You'll never do anything like this again, mark me.

A man writes to the top of his bent only once." The playwright gave Mainhall a curious look out of his deep-set faded eyes and made a wry face.

"And have I done anything so fool as that, now ?" he asked.
"That's what I was saying," Mainhall lounged a little nearer and dropped into a tone even more conspicuously confidential.