"I have great faith in the play," admitted Mr. Flanders, with becoming
modesty.
"So have I," agreed Mr. Bingle enthusiastically. He had been dazed,
yet vastly impressed by the unintelligible phraseology of the stage as
it ran from the glib lips of the eager young man. He was flattered by
Dick's assumption that he was perfectly familiar with the theatre from
box office to "gridiron."
"And what's more," added the playwright, "I have faith in Amy."
By this time Mr. Bingle had unbounded faith in the young actress, and
said so with considerable fervour. Whereupon, the jubilant author
suggested that they send for Miss Fairweather at once and acquaint her
with the glorious news. But Mr. Bingle shook his head.
"No, we can't do that," he said, looking at his watch. "Lessons are
not over yet. Ten minutes left, I see. She's still a governess, Dick.
One job at a time. The stage can wait."
Mr. Flanders sighed but smiled. Then, for no especial reason, he
slapped Mr. Bingle heartily on the back and laughed aloud. He had no
words to express his accumulative joy, so he laughed--and there were
tears in his eyes.
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