"Oh, I don't mean your promotion of the snow battle. But haven't you
heard?" He stared. "You've been found out!"

"Found out?" Verrian's soul was filled with the joy of literary fame.

"Yes. You can't conceal yourself now. You're Verrian the actor."

"The actor?" Verrian frowned blackly in his disgust, so blackly that
Miss Macroyd laughed aloud.

"Yes, the coming matinee idol. One of the girls recognized you as soon
as you came into the house, and the name settled it, though, of course,
you're supposed to be here incognito."

The mention of that name which he enjoyed in common with the actor made
Verrian furious, for when the actor first appeared with it in New York
Verrian had been at the pains to find out that it was not his real name,
and that he had merely taken it because of the weak quality of romance in
it, which Verrian himself had always disliked. But, of course, he could
not vent his fury on Miss Macroyd. All he could do was to ask, "Then
they have got my photograph on their dressing-tables, with candles
burning before it?"

"No, I don't believe I can give you that comfort. The fact is, your
acting is not much admired among the girls here, but they think you are
unexpectedly nice as a private person."

"That's something. And does Mrs. Westangle think I'm the actor, too?"