It was a remarkable fact that the sole proprietor of the Regent Theatre was now in high spirits and good humour.
"Well, Marrier, my boy," he saluted the acting-manager, "how are you getting on with that rehearsal?"
"Well, sir," said Mr. Marrier, "I'm not getting on with it. Miss Euclid refuses absolutely to proceed. She's in her dressing-room."
"But why?" inquired Edward Henry with bland surprise. "Doesn't she want to be heard—by her gallery-boys?"
Mr. Marrier showed an enfeebled smile.
"She hasn't been spoken to like that for thirty years," said he.
"But don't you agree with me?" asked Edward Henry.
"Yes," said Marrier, "I agree with you—"
"And doesn't your friend Carlo want his precious hexameters to be heard?"
"We baoth agree with you," said Marrier. "The fact is, we've done all we could, but it's no use. She's splendid, only—" He paused.