ROBERTS: ‘I—I’m afraid I couldn’t manage that. What is your idea?’ WILLIS: ‘Oh, just come into the room with a laugh when we go back, and say, in an offhand way, “By the way, Agnes, Willis and I made a remarkable discovery in my dressing-room; we found my watch there on the bureau. Ha, ha, ha!” Do you think you could do it?’ ROBERTS: ‘I—I don’t know.’ WILLIS: ‘Try the laugh now.’ ROBERTS: ‘I’d rather not—now.’ WILLIS: ‘Well, try it, anyway.’ ROBERTS: ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ WILLIS: ‘Once more.’ ROBERTS: ‘Ha, ha, ha!’ WILLIS: ‘Pretty ghastly; but I guess you can come it.’ ROBERTS: ‘I’ll try. And then what?’ WILLIS: ‘And then you say, “I hadn’t put it on when I went out, and when I got after that fellow and took it back, I was simply getting somebody else’s watch!” Then you hold out both watches to her, and laugh again. Everybody laughs, and crowds round you to examine the watches, and you make fun and crack jokes at your own expense all the time, and pretty soon old Bemis says, “Why, this is _my_ watch, _now_!” and you laugh more than ever—’ ROBERTS: ‘I’m afraid I couldn’t laugh when he said that. I don’t believe I could laugh. It would make my blood run cold.’ WILLIS: ‘Oh no, it wouldn’t. You’d be in the spirit of it by that time.’ ROBERTS: ‘Do you think so? Well?’ WILLIS: ‘And then you say, “Well, this is the most remarkable coincidence I ever heard of. I didn’t get my own watch from the fellow, but I got yours, Mr. Bemis;” and then you hand it over to him and say, “Sorry I had to break the chain in getting it from him,” and then everybody laughs again, and—and that ends it.’ ROBERTS, with a profound sigh: ‘Do you think that would end it?’ WILLIS: ‘Why, certainly. It’ll put old Bemis in the wrong, don’t you see? It’ll show that instead of letting the fellow escape to go and rob _him_, you attacked him and took Bemis’s property back from him yourself. Bemis wouldn’t have a word to say. All you’ve got to do is to keep up a light, confident manner.’ ROBERTS: ‘But what if it shouldn’t put Bemis in the wrong? What if he shouldn’t say or do anything that we’ve counted upon, but something altogether different?’ WILLIS: ‘Well, then, you must trust to inspiration, and adapt yourself to circumstances.’ ROBERTS: ‘Wouldn’t it be rather more of a joke to come out with the facts at once?’ WILLIS: ‘On you it would; and a year from now—say next Christmas—you could get the laugh on Bemis that way. But if you were to risk it now, there’s no telling how he’d take it. He’s so indignant he might insist upon leaving the house. But with this plan of mine—’ ROBERTS, in despair: ‘I couldn’t, Willis. I don’t feel light, and I don’t feel confident, and I couldn’t act it. If it were a simple lie—’ WILLIS: ‘Oh, lies are never simple; they require the exercise of all your ingenuity. If you want something simple, you must stick to the truth, and throw yourself on Bemis’s mercy.’