since then. He's been ill, poor old dear. I've come here to see Mr.
Foster's play, 'The Primrose Way,' you know. Is it a success?"

"It hasn't opened yet."

"Don't be silly, Fill. Do pull yourself together. It opened last
Monday."

"No, it didn't. Haven't you heard? They've closed all the theatres
because of this infernal Spanish influenza. Nothing has been playing
this week. You must have seen it in the papers."

"I haven't had time to read the papers. Oh, Fill, what an awful shame!"

"Yes, it's pretty tough. Makes the company all on edge. I've had the
darndest time, I can tell you."

"Why, what have you got to do with it?"

Fillmore coughed.

"I--er--oh, I didn't tell you that. I'm sort of--er--mixed up in the
show. Cracknell--you remember he was at college with me--suggested that
I should come down and look at it. Shouldn't wonder if he wants me to
put money into it and so on."

"I thought he had all the money in the world."

"Yes, he has a lot, but these fellows like to let a pal in on a good
thing."