Enter Clerk with more letters. Interviewer suggests he shall return in the evening. Mutual consent. A wait of three hours till—
Scene VII.—The Modern Mathews's dressing-room at the Criterion Theatre. A comfortable little apartment, with speaking-tubes connecting with all parts and all officials of the theatre. A small window—with a blind—opens on to the stage, so that its occupant can see exactly what is going on on the boards, and knows when to prepare to enter.
The Modern Mathews discovered.
Enter Interviewer.
The Modern Mathews: Ah! there you are! Foolish again. Made the same remark this morning when we met—didn't I? Mustn't say it again. (Pencils memory initials on shirt-cuff to this effect.) I've only just got here. That confounded cigarette case—couldn't find it again, M.C. stands for too many things: shall have to invent another plan. I've got it. Always smoke! Eh?—then I shan't have to worry about it! I'm never here till it's time to walk on. Wigs? Never wear 'em. Never so good as your own hair. I never wore a wig for "D.G.," always had my hair dressed. Much better. Excuse me—I'm on.
(Rushes on to stage. The scenery needed here is somewhat elaborate, but it is journalistically adjusted particularly for this occasion. Shouts of laughter. Laughter ceases. The Modern Mathews comes in at the same rate as he departed.)
The Modern Mathews: America! Yes, been there professionally three times. Wonderfully patient people. One night I was timed to appear at a certain theatre at eight o'clock. Breakdown on the line. Didn't get to playhouse until half-past nine. Expected to find the theatre empty. Audience had waited until nine o'clock without showing a sign of being fidgety. Manager went before the curtain saying he had received a telegram from me explaining the circumstances, and stating I should shortly arrive. So the sufferers held on another half-hour, when they began to file out of the theatre. We met them all coming out. "Here we are. Here we are again. Go back! We've arrived!" and go back they did! Ten minutes afterwards the curtain had gone up on the first act of the play. Excuse me! M.P. my part!
(Rapid exit. Rattles off M.P. and returns as merrily as before.)
