“If I were not an honest man, I’d let you go on thinking that. But when she’s had three months of Darley, I’m going to ask you to give her a part in another show and then a lead and—”
“My dear Lexley, you have only to command. I run my companies solely for your convenience.”
“Seriously, Hubert, you can have first option on this girl at a hundred a week in town two years hence, and she’ll be cheap at that. Would you like to see her now?”
“I hate looking at raw meat. What are her points?”
“She can sing.”
Mr. Rossiter shrugged his shoulders. “She’s nothing in my life for that,” he said.
“She’s got youth.”
“Flapper market’s depressed, Lexley. Give me experience all the time.”
“Darley’s seeing to the experience. I tell you, Hubert—”
“Oh, I know. The perfect Juliet. I’m always hearing of her. Never seen her yet.” Mr. Rossiter pressed a bell, and the immediacy of the response suggested that Mr. Claud Drayton, who entered, lived up to the part for which he was cast, of Field-Marshal to the Napoleon, Rossiter. “Got her with you, Chown?” asked Rossiter.