_The Secretary_ (_to_ BOLDERO). So glad all you fellows have been able to come. I've put you pretty well together, as you wished. I wonder where--oh! here he is at last. _Enter Great Actor. The Secretary rushes to him. Hand-shakings and congratulations all round. The G. A. moves up the room to where the Amateurs are standing._ _G. A._ (_shaking hands._) Ah! this is really friendly, TIFFINGTON, really friendly. Were you in front to-night? _Tiffington._ Of course we were. We wouldn't have missed it for a thousand pounds. It went first class. I thought your idea of stabbing ALPHONSO from behind instead of in front, was a genuine inspiration. _G. A._ Approbation from Sir HUBERT. (_Bows and leaves quotation unfinished_). But I've always played it like that, I think. [_Supper is announced. The Guests troop in to the supper-room._ _Tiffington_ (_to_ JARP, _as they walk in_). He's wrong there. Never did it like that before; and, after all, I'm not sure it is such an improvement. But if you don't praise these fellows they never forgive you. _Jarp._ Didn't he say anything about our show at Blankbury? I thought you wrote to him about it. _Tiffington._ So I did; wrote specially to tell him how well things had gone off. But you might just as well try to pump wine out of a pillar-box, as expect a word of sympathy or encouragement from a professional. They're all the same. [_They take their seats,_ TIFFINGTON _and_ JARP _on one side of the table, the other three opposite them. The supper begins._ _Friend of the G. A._ (_on_ TIFFINGTON's _right_). Splendid performance, was it not? I never saw him in finer form in my life. It's quite impossible to imagine anything more dignified and pathetic than his death-scene. _Tiffington_ (_dubiously_). Hum! Yes. I'm not sure I should do it like that quite. What do you say, GUSHBY? _Gushby._ It's not my idea at all. He spins it out far too long. I should like to see you act that, TIFF. _Tiffington_ (_complacently_). Ah, well, so you might if things were managed with common fairness. But (_bitterly_) you know well enough there's a regular conspiracy against me. (_To Friend of G. A._) Now, of course, you've read the notices of our performance of _Heads or Tails_? Yes. I thought you had. Well, you _must_ have observed, that I don't get more than two lines in any one of them, not a word more than two lines upon my soul, and yet any fool knows that my part was the chief one. But there you are. The beggars daren't abuse me. They know the public won't stand that, so, just to spite me, they try to leave me out. But they're very much mistaken if they think I care. Pooh! I snap my fingers at them and their wretched conspiracy. [_Snaps them, and drinks moodily. The supper proceeds. Conversation everywhere ranges over all kinds of topics,--literature, art, the drama, the political situation, the last Divorce Case. The Amateurs continue to discuss themselves._