And again:
"Serves her right.... 'Never, never appear at any other theatre, Mr.
Machin!' ... 'Bended knees!' ... 'Utterly!' ... Cheerful partners! Oh!
cheerful partners!"
He returned to his supper-party. Nobody said a word about the
telephoning. But Rose Euclid and Carlo Trent looked even more like
conspirators than they did before; and Mr. Marrier's joy in life
seemed to be just the least bit diminished.
"So sorry!" Edward Henry began hurriedly, and, without consulting the
poet's wishes, subtly turned on all the lights. "Now, don't you think
we'd better discuss the question of taking up the option? You know, it
expires on Friday."
"No," said Rose Euclid, girlishly. "It expires to-morrow. That's why
it's so _fortunate_ we got hold of you to-night."
"But Mr. Bryany told me Friday. And the date was clear enough on the
copy of the option he gave me."
"A mistake of copying," beamed Mr. Marrier. "However, it's all right."
"Well," observed Edward Henry with heartiness, "I don't mind telling
you that for sheer calm coolness you take the cake. However, as Mr.
Marrier so ably says, it's all right. Now I understand if I go into
this affair I can count on you absolutely, and also on Mr. Trent's
services." He tried to talk as if he had been diplomatizing with
actresses and poets all his life.
"A--absolutely!" said Rose.
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