‘Excuse me, my dear fellow; I have a couple of letters to finish.’

Hubert sat down, glancing nervously from the actor to the morning papers with which the table was strewn.  There was not an evening paper there.  Had he not seen them?  At the end of about ten minutes the actor said,—­

’Well, this is a bad business; they are terribly down on us—­aren’t they?  What do you think?’

‘Have you seen the evening papers—­The Telephone, for instance?’

’Oh yes, I’ve seen them all; but the evening papers don’t amount to much.  Stiggins’s article was terrible.  I am afraid he has killed the piece.’

‘Don’t you think it will run, then?’

’Well, that depends upon the public, of course.  If they like it, I’ll keep it on.’

‘How’s the booking?’

‘Not good.’  Montague Ford moved his papers absent-mindedly.  At the end of a long silence he said, ’Even if the piece did catch on, it would take a lot of working up to undo the mischief of those articles.  Of course you can rely on me to give it every chance.  I shan’t take it out of the bills if I can possibly help.’

‘There is my Gipsy.’

’I have another piece ready to put into rehearsal; it was arranged for six months ago.  I only consented to produce your play because—­well, because there has been such an outcry lately about art....  Tremendous part for me in the new piece...  I’m sure you’ll like it.’

The business did improve, but so very slowly that Hubert was afraid Ford would lose patience and take the play out of the bills.  But while the fate of the play hung in the balance, Hubert’s life was being rendered unbearable by duns.  They had found him out, one and all; to escape being served was an impossibility; and now his table was covered with summonses to appear at the County Court.  This would not matter if the piece once took the public taste.  Then he would be able to pay every one, and have some time to rest and think.  And there seemed every prospect of its catching on.  Discussions regarding the morality of the play had arisen in the newspapers, and the eternal question whether men and women are happier married or unmarried had reached its height.  Hubert spent the afternoon addressing letters to the papers, striving to fan the flame of controversy.  Every evening he listened for Rose’s footstep on the stairs.—­How did the piece go?—­Was there a better house?  Money or paper?—­Have you seen the notice in the ——?—­First-rate, wasn’t it?—­That ought to do some good.—­I’ve heard there was a notice in the ——­, but I haven’t seen it.  Have you?—­No; but So-and-so saw the paper, and said there was nothing in it.  And, do you know, I hear there’s going to be a notice in The Modern Review, and that So-and-so is writing it.