"You're always acting," he declared in English and with a simple-minded laugh, while Sherringham remained struck with his expressing just what he himself had felt weeks before.
"And when you've shown them your fish-wife, to your public de là-bas, what will you do next?" asked Madame Carré.
"I'll do Juliet—I'll do Cleopatra."
"Rather a big bill, isn't it?" Mr. Dashwood volunteered to Sherringham in a friendly but discriminating manner.
"Constance and Juliet—take care you don't mix them," said Sherringham.
"I want to be various. You once told me I had a hundred characters," Miriam returned.
"Ah, vous en êtes là?" cried the old actress. "You may have a hundred characters, but you've only three plays. I'm told that's all there are in English."
Miriam, admirably indifferent to this charge, appealed to Peter. "What arrangements have you made? What do the people want?"
"The people at the theatre?"
"I'm afraid they don't want King John, and I don't believe they hunger for Antony and Cleopatra," Basil Dashwood suggested. "Ships and sieges and armies and pyramids, you know: we mustn't be too heavy."