"I'm not likely to close the show at all," he laughed. "But I have reasons of my own for reserving that right. Otherwise, however, you are the manager, owner, producer and director. Do as you please, my dear Weldon, but remember the terms of our compact."
"I am not likely to forget them," cried Weldon, enthusiastically. "But," he added nervously, "can the young lady you wish me to engage really act the part?"
"I don't know and I don't care," responded Gordon. "The fact remains that she is going to play the part, and if she doesn't know how to act, teach her. That's all."
Weldon shook his head sadly.
"I had hoped, after my experience, Mr. Gordon, that I was through with those bloomers where they try to force an unknown on the public," he sighed. "But I know you too well to try and argue that a well-known actress of reputation would help the piece and perhaps make it a hit."
Gordon picked up his silk hat and balanced it with one hand while he took his cane and gloves from the desk.
"It is immaterial to me, Weldon, whether the piece is a hit or not," he said carelessly. "Of course, I sincerely hope, for your sake, that it proves a success. But I won't shed any tears if it isn't. Like the respected founders of the New Theater, I am not producing this play to make money. I am simply endeavoring to give a certain young lady a chance to play a star part in a Broadway theater. If she has the merit to succeed, so much the better, for her sake and for yours. But personally I don't give a damn—so long as I pull the strings."