"Good Heavens! No wonder it smells of blood."
"He's got an idea for a new play, and he came to me to get some local colouring. I'll just tell you the plot--he was obliged to tell it me, or I couldn't have given him the help he wanted."
"Is it essential? I have enough of Plumline's plots when I see them on the stage."
"It is essential. You will see."
Mr. Railton got up, lighted a cigar, and stood before the fireplace. When he had brought the cigar into good going order he unfolded Mr. Plumline's plot.
"I'm not going to bore you. I'm just going to touch upon that part which gave me my idea. There's a girl who dreams of boundless wealth--a clever girl, you understand."
"Girls who dream of boundless wealth sometimes are clever," murmured his friend. Perhaps he had his wife in his mind's eye.
"She is wooed and won by a financier. Not wooed and won by a tale of love, but by the exposition of an idea."
"That's rather new--for Plumline."
"The financier has an idea for obtaining the boundless wealth of which she only dreams."