it pretty tough going if his leading woman had been anyone like Vera Silverton!"
Archie—and it was this fact, no doubt, which accounted for his possession of such a large and varied circle of friends—was always able to shelve his own troubles in order to listen to other people's hard-luck stories.
"Tell me all, laddie," he said. "Release the film! Has she walked out on you?"
"Left us flat! How did you hear about it? Oh, she told you, of course?"
Archie hastened to try to dispel the idea that he was on any such terms of intimacy with Miss Silverton.
"No, no! My wife said she thought it must be something of that nature or order when we saw her come in to breakfast. I mean to say," said Archie, reasoning closely, "woman can't come into breakfast here and be rehearsing in New York at the same time. Why did she administer the raspberry, old friend?"
Mr. Benham helped himself to fish-pie, and spoke dully through the steam.
"Well, what happened was this. Knowing her as intimately as you do"
"I don't know her!"
"Well, anyway, it was like this. As you know, she has a dog"
"I didn't know she had a dog," protested Archie. It seemed to him that the world was in conspiracy to link him with this woman.
"Well, she has a dog. A beastly great whacking brute of a bulldog. And she brings it to rehearsal." Mr. Benham's eyes filled with tears, as in his emotion he swallowed a mouthful of fish-pie some eighty-three de-
