Sir John resumed his chair.
"As for Pompey's qualifications as a head," he murmured, "I know nothing of them. I fancy his heart is excellent. I only saw him twice, once in his own theatre, and once in Bond Street. I should be inclined to say that on the stage he looks more like a gentleman than any gentleman ought to look, and that in the street he might be mistaken for an actor.... How will that suit you?"
"It's a clue," said Edward Henry.
"Alderman!" exclaimed Sir John, "I believe that if I didn't keep a firm hand on myself I should soon begin to like you. Have another cup of coffee. Chung!... Good-bye, Bootmaker, good-bye!"
"I only want to know for certain who is the head," said Edward Henry, "because I mean to invite the head of the theatrical profession to lay the corner-stone of my new theatre."
"Ah!"
"When do you start on your world's tour, Sir John?"
"I leave Tilbury, with my entire company, scenery and effects, on the morning of Tuesday week, by the Kandahar. I shall play first at Cairo."
"How awkward!" said Edward Henry. "I meant to ask you to lay the stone on the very next afternoon—Wednesday, that is!"
"Indeed!"