“Yours?”
“Yes. There’s a part in it that would just suit you.”
“What is it? Musical comedy?”
“No. Ordinary comedy.”
“I shouldn’t mind putting on a comedy soon. I must have a look at it. Come and have a bit of lunch.”
One of the firemen came up, carrying a card.
“Hullo, what’s this? Oh, confound the feller! He’s always coming here. Look here: tell him that I’m just gone out to lunch, but can see him at three. Come along, old boy.”
He began to read the play over the coffee and cigars.
He read it straight through, as I had done.
“What rot!” he said, as he turned the last page.