"But your second act?" asked the Poet.
"Oh, come off," said the Idiot rising. "We were to do this thing in collaboration. So far I've done the whole blooming business. I'll leave the second act to you. When you collaborate, Mr. Poet, you've got to do a little collabbing on your own account. What did you think you were to do—collect the royalties?"
"I'm told," said the Lawyer, "that that is sometimes the hardest thing to do in a comic opera."
"Well, I'll be self-sacrificing," said the Idiot, "and bear my full share of it."
"It seems to me," said the Bibliomaniac, "that that opera produced in the right place might stand a chance of a run."
"Thank you," said the Idiot. "After all, Mr. Bib, you are a man of some penetration. How long a run?"
"One consecutive night," said the Bibliomaniac.
"Ah—and where?" demanded the Idiot with a smile.
"At Bloomingdale," answered the Bibliomaniac severely.
"That's a very good idea," said the Idiot. "When you go back there, Mr. Bib, I wish you'd suggest it to the Superintendent."