“I really don’t, Margot. And you can’t get a theatre for love, blood or money. They’re even trying to buy theatres to bring plays into. Mark would have to run the play on the road for weeks--months, perhaps, before he could get a theatre.” She dropped the matter, spoke of the dance again and at the hotel hurried up the corridor to her rooms. Mark sat up as Gurdy slid into the other bed of his chamber and passed a hand across his throat, “Oh, son, what an evening! ‘Todgers’ to the boneyard! Crape on the door!” “Fizzled? People were knocking it at the Jannan’s.” “Awful! Every one coughed. I will say Rand worked hard. No, it’s dead. I’ll let it run tomorrow night and then close it.--Stick with me tomorrow. I’ll have to break the bad news to Rand.” He broke the news to Rand just as Gurdy was leaving to take the train for Trenton, after lunch. The actor strolled up to them beside the door, a grey furred coat over his arm and his bronze eyes patently anxious. “Going away, Bernamer?” “The country.” “Decent day for it.... I say, Walling, they weren’t nice to us in the papers.” Gurdy saw Mark begin to act. The voice deepened to its kindest drawl. Mark said, “Just called up the theatre. Only sold two hundred seats for tonight and its almost three, now. That’s too bad.” Rand passed the polished nails along the soft moustache. The sun of the door sent true gold into his hair. He murmured, “Shocking bad, eh? We play Baltimore, next week, don’t we?” “No,” said Mark, easily, “It’s too thin. I’ll close it tonight.--Now, I’m putting on a piece called the ‘Last Warrior.’ English. Start rehearsals after Christmas. Good part for you in that. Marion Hart’s the lead. Know her? Nice to play with and a damned good play.” “Oh--thanks awfully.--Yes, I know Miss Hart.--Thanks very much, sir.... You shan’t risk bringing ‘Todgers’ to New York?” “No. I’m sorry. You’ve worked mighty hard and I like your work. You’ll be a lot better off in this other play.... ‘Todgers’ is too thin, Rand. Might have done five or six years back.” The actor nodded. “Dare say you’re right, sir. Bit of a bubble, really. And awfully good of you to want me for this other thing. Be delighted to try.... Yes, this was rather bubblish:--Anyhow, this lets me out of Baltimore. I do hate that town. Well, thanks ever so. Better luck next time, let’s hope.” He walked off, grey into the duller grey of the columned lounge. Mark nodded after him. “Took it damned well, Gurdy. He’ll be all right in this other show and Cora can’t say I haven’t been decent to him. Well, hustle along. Got that whiskey for your dad? Give ’em my love.--Look at that pink car, for lordsake! Vulgarity on four wheels, huh?--So long, sonny.”