HOLMAN CLARK (annoyed).  Let’s get on with the play.

Sir GEORGES.  Certainly.  Wait a moment till I’ve got my “strong-man-with-his-back-to-the-wall” expression. (Arranging his face.) How’s that?

HOLMAN CLARK.  Begin again....  That’s better.

Merital (sternly).  Now then, Frepeau!  I must ask you to give instructions that the libel is withdrawn in court this afternoon.  If not—­

Frepeau.  Well?

Merital (softly).  I know somebody else who stole something from the stamp drawer thirty years ago. (Frepeau’s whiskers tremble.) Aha, I thought I’d move you this time.

Frepeau.  It’s a lie!  How did you find out?

Merital (blandly).  I said to myself, “I am the hero of this play and I’ve got to get out of this mess somehow.  If I could only find some papers incriminating the villain—­that’s you all would be well.”  So I—­er—­found them....  It’s no good, Frepeau.  Unless you let me off, you’re done.

Frepeau (getting up).  Well, I suppose I must.  But personally I’d be ashamed to escape through such a rotten coincidence as that. (Making for the door.) I’ll just go and arrange it.  Er, I suppose this is the end?

Sir GEORGES.  The end?  Good Heavens, man, I’ve got my big scene to come.  I have to explain why Merital stole the money thirty years ago!

HOLMAN CLARK (eagerly).  Let me guess.  His wife was starv—­

SIR GEORGES.  No, no, don’t spoil it. (Sternly) It’s a very serious thing, HOLMAN, to spoil an actor-manager’s big scene.

CURTAIN.

ACT III.

Daniel Merital.  Father has won his case.  I am glad.  Oh, are you there, Father?  I’m just going downstairs to count the telegrams.
          
                                                  [Exit.

Enter_ Renee.

Renee.  You have won the case?  I knew it.  I knew you were innocent.

Merital (nobly).  Renee, I am not innocent.  I did steal that ninepence.  I would have confessed it before, but I had to think of my family. (Cheers from the gallery.) Of course it would also have been unpleasant for me if it had been known, but that did not influence me. (More cheers.) I thought only of my children.  Let me tell you now why I stole it.

Renee (eagerly).  Let me guess.  Your wife was starving—­

Merital (astounded).  Wonderful!  How ever did you know?

Renee. —­and you meant to repay the money.

Merital.  More and more marvellous.  Yes, Renee, that was how it was.  But it hardly does justice to the affair.  It is too short.  I want to tell you the story of my whole life and then you will understand.  Watch my face carefully and observe how it works; notice the constant movement of my hands; listen to the inflections of my voice.  This is going to be the longest speech ever made by an actor-manager, and you mustn’t miss a moment of it.  H’r’m!  Now then. (Nobly) I was born fifty-three years ago.  My father....