"I saw in the
paper that Talbot Potter was to put on a play you'd written. I
congratulate you. That man's a great artist, but he never seems
to get a good play; he's always much, much greater than his
part. I'm sure you've given him a real play at last. I remember
your principles: Realism; no compromise! The truth; no shirking
it, no tampering with it! You've struck out for that--you've
never compro--"
"No. Oh, no," said Canby, waking up a little. "Of course you've
got to make a little change or two in plays. You see, you've got
to make an actor like a play or he won't play it, and if he
won't play it you haven't got any play--you've only got some
typewriting."
Rieger set his foot upon the step and rested his left forearm
upon his knee, and attitude comfortable for street debate.
"Admitting the truth of that for the sake of argument, and only
for the moment, because I don't for one instant accept such a
jesuitism--"
"Yes," said Canby dreamily. "Yes." And, with not only apparent
but genuine unconsciousness of this one-time friend's existence,
he turned and walked back into the lobby, and presently was
vaguely aware that somebody near the street doors of the theatre
seemed to be in a temper.
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