“But you must have written other plays,” pursued Larcher. “Yes; and have even had three of them produced. Two had moderate success; but one of those I sold on low terms, in my eagerness to have it accepted and establish a name. On the other, I couldn't collect my royalties. The third was a failure. But none of these, or of any I have written, was up to the level of the play that Bagley dealt with. I admit that. It was my one work of first-class merit. I think my poor powers were affected by my experience with that play; but certainly for some reason I '... never could recapture The first fine careless rapture.' I should have been a different man if I had received the honor and the profits of that first accepted play of mine.” “I should think that, as Bagley is so rich, he would quietly hand you over twenty thousand dollars, at least, for the sake of his conscience.” “Men of Bagley's sort have no conscience where money is concerned. I used to wonder just what share of his fortune was rightly mine, if one knew how to estimate. It was my twenty thousand dollars he invested; what percentage of the gains would belong to me, giving him his full due for labor and skill? And then the credit of the authorship,--which he flatly robbed me of,--what would be its value? But that is all matter for mere speculation. As to the twenty thousand alone, there can be no doubt.” “And yet he said tonight he would trust you with every dollar he had in the world.” “Yes, he would.” Davenport smiled. “He knows that _I_ know the difference between a moral right and a legal right. He knows the difficulties in the way of any attempt at self-restitution on my part,--and the unpleasant consequences. Oh, yes, he would trust me with large sums; has done so, in fact. I have handled plenty of his cash. He is what they call a 'ready-money man;' does a good deal of business with bank-notes of high denomination,--it enables him to seize opportunities and make swift transactions. He should interest you, if you have an eye for character.” Upon which remark, Davenport raised his cup, as if to finish the coffee and the subject at the same time. Larcher sat silently wondering what other dramas were comprised in the history of his singular companion, besides that wherein Bagley was concerned, and that in which the fickle woman had borne a part. He found himself interested, on his own account, in this haggard-eyed, world-wearied, yet not unattractive man, as well as for Miss Hill. When Davenport spoke again, it was in regard to the artistic business which now formed a tie between himself and Larcher.