"Oh, how you startled me," said the Author sitting up among the Rugs. "Just as you came in I was writing about the Fays and the Elfins. I was in the deep Greenwood, the velvet Sward kissing my wan Cheek and the Leaves whispering overhead."
"I see," said the Artist. "A Dark Change from an Interior to a Wood Set. That's all right if you can do it quick. Who did you say you was doing it for—the Fays?"
"I mentioned the Fays and Elfins," replied the Author.
"I've heard of the Fays," said the Artist. "They're out on the Orpheum Circuit now. But the Elfins—no. What kind of a Turn do they do?"
"Ah, the Elfins!" said the Author. "They dance in the Moonlight and skip from Tree to Tree.
"Acrobatic Stuff with Light Effects, eh? Well, you're on a couple of Mackerels. I never see any Benders that could get away with a Talking Act. You want to give your Piece to somebody that can Boost you. You write a good gingery Skit for me and Miss Fromage and we'll put your Name on a Three-Sheet in Letters big enough to scare a Horse."
"I gather from the somewhat technical Character of your Conversation, my dear sir, that you are associated with the Drama," said the Author.