My words were a joke, because I thought his had been; but for the first time that I could remember I perceived a certain confusion in his face. He looked at me hard, throwing back his head quickly, the least bit like a horse who has been pulled up short. "Oh, it was before that," he replied, naturally enough. "Before that you were playing billiards with _me,_" Lord Mellifont intimated. "Then it must have been yesterday," said Vawdrey. But he was in a tight place. "You told me this morning you did nothing yesterday," the actress objected. "I don't think I really know when I do things." Vawdrey looked vaguely, without helping himself, at a dish that was offered him. "It's enough if _we_ know," smiled Lord Mellifont. "I don't believe you've written a line," said Blanche Adney. "I think I could repeat you the scene." Vawdrey helped himself to _haricots verts._ "Oh, do--oh, do!" two or three of us cried. "After dinner, in the salon; it will be an immense _régal_," Lord Mellifont declared. "I'm not sure, but I'll try," Vawdrey went on. "Oh, you lovely man!" exclaimed the actress, who was practising Americanisms, being resigned even to an American comedy. "But there must be this condition," said Vawdrey: "you must make your husband play." "Play while you're reading? Never!" "I've too much vanity," said Adney. Lord Mellifont distinguished him. "You must give us the overture, before the curtain rises. That's a peculiarly delightful moment." "I sha'n't read--I shall just speak," said Vawdrey. "Better still, let me go and get your manuscript," the actress suggested.