"But, great heavens! if you make him lovable the character's
ruined. Besides, the audience won't want to see him lose the
girl at the end and 'Donald Grey' get her!"

"No, they won't; that's it exactly," said Potter thoughtfully.
"You'll have to fix that, Mr. Canby. 'Roderick Hanscom' will
have to win her by a great sacrifice in the last act. A great,
strong, lovable man, Mr. Canby; that's the kind of character I
want to play: a big, sweet, lovable fellow, with the heart of a
child, that makes a great sacrifice for a woman. I don't want
to play 'egoists'; I don't want to play character parts. No." He
shook his head musingly, and concluded, the while a light of
ineffable sweetness shone from his remarkable eyes: "Mr. Canby,
no! My audience comes to see Talbot Potter. You go over these
other acts and write the part so that I can play myself."

The playwright gazed upon him, inarticulate, and Potter, shaking
himself slightly, like one aroused from a pleasant little
reverie, turned to the waiting figure of the girl.

"What is it, Miss Malone?" he asked mildly. "Did you want to
speak to me?"

"You told Mr. Packer to ask me to wait," she said.

"Did I? Oh, yes, so I did. If you please, take off your hat and
veil, Miss Malone?"

She gave him a startled look; then, without a word, slowly
obeyed.