“Yes, yes, she’s wonderful,” assented Tessie as they strolled to the door of her shop. “But I’ve been thinking about comedy. You know my new one I’m writing--of course it’s a big, vital theme, all about a heartless wife with her mind wholly on society and bridge clubs and dancing and that sort of dissipation, and her husband is Hubert Glendenning, a studious young lawyer who doesn’t like to go out evenings but would rather play with the kiddies a bit after their mother has gone to a party, or read over some legal documents in the library, which is very beautifully furnished; and her old school friend, Corona Bartlett, comes to stay at the house, a very voluptuous type, high coloured, with black hair and lots of turquoise jewellery, and she’s a bad woman through and through, and been divorced and everything by a man whose heart she broke, and she’s become a mere adventuress with a secret vice--she takes perfume in her tea, like I saw that one did--and all her evil instincts are aroused at once by Hubert, who doesn’t really care deeply for her, as she has only a surface appeal of mere sensuous beauty; but he sees that his wife is neglecting him and having an affair with an Italian count--I found such a good name for him, Count Ravioli--and staying out with him until all hours; so in a moment of weakness he gives himself to Corona Bartlett, and then sees that he must break up his home and get a divorce and marry Corona to make an honest woman of her; but of course his wife is brought to her senses, so she sees that she has been in the wrong and has a big scene with Corona in which she scorns her and Corona slinks away, and she forgives Hubert his one false step because it was her fault. It’s full of big situations, but what I’m wondering--I’m wondering if I couldn’t risk some comedy in it by having the faithful old butler a cross-eyed man. Nothing so outrageous as that creature we just saw, but still noticeably cross-eyed. Do you think it would lighten some of the grimmer scenes, perhaps, and wouldn’t it be good pathos to have the butler aware of his infirmity and knowing the greatest surgeons in the world can’t help him?” “Well,” Merton considered, “if I were you I shouldn’t chance it. It would be mere acrobatic humour. And why do you want any one to be funny when you have a big gripping thing of love and hate like that? I don’t believe I’d have him cross-eyed. I’d have him elderly and simple and dignified. And you don’t want your audience to laugh, do you, when he holds up both hands to show how shocked he is at the way things are going on in that house?” “Well, maybe I won’t then. It was just a thought. I believe you have the right instinct in those matters, Merton. I’ll leave him as he is.” “Good-night, then,” said Merton. “I got to be on the lot to-morrow. My camera man’s coming at two. Shooting some Western stuff.” “Oh, my! Really?”