“But it’s an agreeable suggestion,” said Mr. Lennard, who was poor as well as honest.
“It would be a more agreeable suggestion if you paid back the thirty if the play’s a failure.”
Manning’s arguments were too much to cope with, so the author subsided.
“So far so good,” said Eliphalet, and produced the manuscript of the play. “Now, what I chiefly want you to do in these alterations is to retain the present spirit of the play as exactly as possible. It is admirably suited to the title, and the title pleases me greatly.”
Mr. Lennard looked grateful and asked what was required of him.
“To begin with, the character of the doctor must be changed to that of a clergyman.”
“A clergyman!”
“Precisely. I don’t play doctors, but I can and do play clergymen. After all, in a healer of the body or a healer of the mind there is no great difference.”
“Well,” said Mr. Lennard nervously, “it’s rather—I mean—a tall order. Aren’t some of the lines and—er-situations slightly unsuited to a cleric?”
“Change ’em, then. Make ’em suitable. That’s an author’s job, ain’t it?” demanded Manning.