“As a matter of fact,” said Fillmore loftily, his great soul ill-attuned to this badinage, “what I was really thinking about at the moment was something Ike said.” “Ike?” “Ike Schumann. He's on the train. I met him just now.” “We call him Ike!” “Of course I call him Ike,” said Fillmore heatedly. “Everyone calls him Ike.” “He wears a fur coat,” Sally murmured. Fillmore registered annoyance. “I wish you wouldn't keep on harping on that damned coat. And, anyway, why shouldn't I have a fur coat?” “Fill...! How can you be so brutal as to suggest that I ever said you shouldn't? Why, I'm one of the strongest supporters of the fur coat. With big cuffs. And you must roll up Fifth Avenue in your car, and I'll point and say 'That's my brother!' 'Your brother? No!' 'He is, really.' 'You're joking. Why, that's the great Fillmore Nicholas.' 'I know. But he really is my brother. And I was with him when he bought that coat.'” “Do leave off about the coat!” “'And it isn't only the coat,' I shall say. 'It's what's underneath. Tucked away inside that mass of fur, dodging about behind that dollar cigar, is one to whom we point with pride... '” Fillmore looked coldly at his watch. “I've got to go and see Ike Schumann.” “We are in hourly consultation with Ike.” “He wants to see me about the show. He suggests putting it into Chicago before opening in New York.” “Oh no,” cried Sally, dismayed. “Why not?” Sally recovered herself. Identifying Gerald so closely with his play, she had supposed for a moment that if the piece opened in Chicago it would mean a further prolonged separation from him. But of course there would be no need, she realized, for him to stay with the company after the first day or two. “You're thinking that we ought to have a New York reputation before tackling Chicago. There's a lot to be said for that. Still, it works both ways. A Chicago run would help us in New York. Well, I'll have to think it over,” said Fillmore, importantly, “I'll have to think it over.” He mused with drawn brows. “All wrong,” said Sally. “Eh?” “Not a bit like it. The lips should be compressed and the forefinger of the right hand laid in a careworn way against the right temple. You've a lot to learn. Fill.” “Oh, stop it!”