"Pierrots it is," said Cecilia defiantly.
"Then I wash my hands of it. To think that our family——"
"You can wash your hands if you like," said Cecilia; "we should prefer it, in fact; but you are certainly going to take part."
I know the futility of arguing with Cecilia.
"Then tell me the worst," I begged; "what am I to be? Can I show people to their seats, or am I the good-looking tenor with gentlemanly features and long hair?"
"We thought of making you the funny man," said Cecilia.
I buried my head in my hands and shuddered.
At this moment John came into the room. "Talking about the 'Merry Maggots'?" he said. "Splendid idea of Cecilia's, isn't it? I've just been thinking it over, and what we must decide on first of all is who is to be the—the humourist. He's the really important man; must be someone really first-class."
"We've also been discussing it," I said quickly, "and we came to the conclusion that there's only one man for the job—yourself."
John nodded complacently.