CHAPTER X

When Henry told his wife that he was counting on her for brilliant ideas, he meant the compliment rather broadly; for he couldn’t imagine how a girl brought up as Anna had been brought up could supply any practical schemes for increasing the patronage of a motion-picture theatre. Indeed, when she brought him her first suggestion he laughed, and kissed her, and petted her, and while he privately appraised her as a dear little dreamer, he told her that he was ever so much obliged, but he was afraid that her plan wouldn’t work.

“You see,” he said, “you haven’t had very much experience in this business––”

“Methuselah!” she retorted, and Henry laughed again.

“That’s no way for a wife to talk. When I mention business you’re supposed to look at me with ill-concealed awe. But to get down to 170 brass tacks, I’ve watched the audiences for four or five weeks, and I am beginning to size them up. And I don’t believe you can put over any grand-opera stuff on ’em.”

“It doesn’t make the least bit of difference whether it’s grand-opera or the movies, my lord. It’ll work.”

He shook his head dubiously. “Well, even suppose it would, I still don’t like it. You don’t make friends simply to use ’em for your own purposes.”

“Why, of course not. But after you’ve made ’em, you’re silly not to let ’em help you if they can. And if they want to. And if they don’t then they aren’t really your friends, are they? It’s a good way to find out.”

Henry frowned a little. “What makes you think it would work?”

“Human nature.... Now you just think it all over from the beginning. All our friends come to the Orpheum some night, don’t they? They’d go to some picture, anyway, but they come to the Orpheum for two reasons––one’s because it’s a nice house now, and the other’s because it’s ours. And sometimes they’re in 171 time to get good seats, and sometimes they aren’t. Well, we aren’t asking any special favour of them; we’re just making sure that if they all come the same night, they’ll have the same seats, time after time. And they’ll like it, Henry.”