'Then do you mean to say that it's all right--that you believe--' 'I do,' said Mr Prosser. 'By the way,' he said, 'the notice of _White Roses_ went up last night.' Owen's heart turned to lead. 'But--but--' he stammered. 'But tonight the house was packed.' 'It was. Packed with paper. All the merry dead-heads in London were there. It has been the worst failure this season. And, by George,' he cried, with sudden vehemence, 'serve 'em right. If I told them once it would fail in England, I told them a hundred times. The London public won't stand that sort of blithering twaddle.' Owen stopped and looked round. A cab was standing across the road. He signalled to it. He felt incapable of walking home. No physical blow could have unmanned him more completely than this hideous disappointment just when, by a miracle, everything seemed to be running his way. 'Sooner ride than walk,' said Mr Prosser, pushing his head through the open window. 'Laziness--slackness--that's the curse of the modern young man. Where shall I tell him to drive to?' Owen mentioned his address. It struck him that he had not thanked his host for his hospitality. 'It was awfully good of you to give me supper, Mr Prosser,' he said. 'I've enjoyed it tremendously.' 'Come again,' said Mr Prosser. 'I'm afraid you're disappointed about the play?' Owen forced a smile. 'Oh, no, that's all right,' he said. 'It can't be helped.' Mr Prosser half turned, then thrust his head through the window again. 'I knew there was something I had forgotten to say,' he said. 'I ought to have told you that the play was produced in America before it came to London. It ran two seasons in New York and one in Chicago, and there are three companies playing it still on the road. Here's my card. Come round and see me tomorrow. I can't tell you the actual figures off-hand, but you'll be all right. You'll have pots o' money.' OUT OF SCHOOL Mark you, I am not defending James Datchett. I hold no brief for James. On the contrary, I am very decidedly of the opinion that he should not have done it. I merely say that there were extenuating circumstances. Just that. Ext. circ. Nothing more. Let us review the matter calmly and judicially, not condemning James off-hand, but rather probing the whole affair to its core, to see if we can confirm my view that it is possible to find excuses for him. We will begin at the time when the subject of the Colonies first showed a tendency to creep menacingly into the daily chit-chat of his Uncle Frederick.