“It is not settled so easily,” he remarked.
And for the first time in their mutual association there was a scene.
It was decided if Eliphalet desired to retain their services he must adjust his views to theirs. He, as a counter, produced precisely the same terms, and the result was a lock-out. Art versus Commerce. The meeting broke up with generally distributed feelings of grievance and dissatisfaction.
Eliphalet Cardomay took some rooms in Trafford Park and sat down to wait until such a time as they should realise their folly and withdraw the opposition to his demands.
He was never really happy when not working, and even the pleasant companionship of Mornice failed to dispel the gloom of the days that followed. They were both bitterly disappointed. He at the lack of faith shown by his syndicate, and she at losing her first chance of a big part.
It had hurt Eliphalet more than he believed possible to break the news to her after the meeting.
“Oh, never mind,” she had said. “I should have been very dud as Ophelia. Anyway, I shall be in ‘The Night Cry,’ shan’t I?”
When he told her “The Night Cry” was indefinitely postponed, her distress was evident.
Mornice was wholly centred in getting on, and sitting idle in the Trafford Park lodgings was almost more than she could endure. Very discreetly she hinted at being allowed to try for a Cinema engagement to fill in, but on that subject Eliphalet was severe in his disapproval.
“Cinematograph acting is not art,” he would say. “Trust me, and sooner or later you shall have your chance. My syndicate will come to their senses before long.”