Fillmore coughed.
“I—er—oh, I didn't tell you that. I'm sort of—er—mixed up in the show. Cracknell—you remember he was at college with me—suggested that I should come down and look at it. Shouldn't wonder if he wants me to put money into it and so on.”
“I thought he had all the money in the world.”
“Yes, he has a lot, but these fellows like to let a pal in on a good thing.”
“Is it a good thing?”
“The play's fine.”
“That's what Mr. Faucitt said. But Mabel Hobson...”
Fillmore's ample face registered emotion.
“She's an awful woman, Sally! She can't act, and she throws her weight about all the time. The other day there was a fuss about a paper-knife...”
“How do you mean, a fuss about a paper-knife?”