"You must remember you're in the gallery," said Mr. Marrier firmly.
"And what if I am! I'm not giving gallery seats away to-morrow night. It's true I'm giving half the stalls away, but the gallery will be paid for."
Said Rose Euclid sharply, and Edward Henry caught every word with the most perfect distinctness:
"I'm sick and tired of people saying they can't make out what I say! They actually write me letters about it! Why _should_ people make out what I say?"
"Ring down the curtain," said Mr. Marrier in a thrilled voice.
Shortly afterward Mr. Marrier came into the managerial office, lit up now, where Edward Henry was dictating to his typewriter and hospital nurse, who, having been caught in hat and jacket on the threshold, had been brought back and was tapping his words direct on to the machine. It was a remarkable fact that the sole proprietor of the Regent Theatre was now in high spirits and good-humour.
"Well, Marrier, my boy," he saluted the acting manager, "how are you getting on with that rehearsal?"
"Well, sir," said Mr. Marrier, "I'm not getting on with it. Miss Euclid refuses absolutely to proceed. She's in her dressing-room."
"But why?" enquired Edward Henry with bland surprise. "Doesn't she _want_ to be heard by her gallery-boys?"
"She hasn't been spoken to like that for thirty years," said he.
"But don't you agree with me?" asked Edward Henry.
"Yes," said Marrier, "I _agree_ with you--"
"And doesn't your friend Carlo want his precious hexameters to be heard?"
"We baoth agree with you," said Marrier. "The fact is, we've done all we could, but it's no use. She's splendid; only--" He paused.
"Only you can't make out ten per cent. of what she says," Edward Henry finished for him. "Well, I've got no use for that in my theatre." He found a singular pleasure in emphasising the phrase, "my theatre."
"That's all very well," said Marrier. "But what are you going to _do_ about it? I've tried everything. _You've_ come in and burst up the entire show, if you'll forgive my saying saoh!"
"Do?" exclaimed Edward Henry. "It's perfectly simple. All you have to do is to act. God bless my soul, aren't you getting fifteen pounds a week, and aren't you my acting manager? Act, then! You've done enough hinting. You've proved that hints are no good. You'd have known that from your birth up, Marrier, if you'd been born in the Five Towns. Act, my boy."