“Pushed it.  Accidentally.  With my foot.”

“I understand.  And when you brought off this kick—­”

“Push,” said Mr. Benham, austerely.

“This kick or push.  When you administered this kick or push—­”

“It was more a sort of light shove.”

“Well, when you did whatever you did, the trouble started?”

Mr. Benham gave a slight shiver.

“She talked for a while, and then walked out, taking the dog with her.  You see, this wasn’t the first time it had happened.”

“Good Lord!  Do you spend your whole time doing that sort of thing?”

“It wasn’t me the first time.  It was the stage-manager.  He didn’t know whose dog it was, and it came waddling on to the stage, and he gave it a sort of pat, a kind of flick—­”

“A slosh?”

“Not a slosh,” corrected Mr. Benham, firmly.  “You might call it a tap—­with the promptscript.  Well, we had a lot of difficulty smoothing her over that time.  Still, we managed to do it, but she said that if anything of the sort occurred again she would chuck up her part.”

“She must be fond of the dog,” said Archie, for the first time feeling a touch of goodwill and sympathy towards the lady.

“She’s crazy about, it.  That’s what made it so awkward when I happened—­quite inadvertently—­to give it this sort of accidental shove.  Well, we spent the rest of the day trying to get her on the ’phone at her apartment, and finally we heard that she had come here.  So I took the next train, and tried to persuade her to come back.  She wouldn’t listen.  And that’s how matters stand.”

“Pretty rotten!” said Archie, sympathetically.

“You can bet it’s pretty rotten—­for me.  There’s nobody else who can play the part.  Like a chump, I wrote the thing specially for her.  It means the play won’t be produced at all, if she doesn’t do it.  So you’re my last hope!”

Archie, who was lighting a cigarette, nearly swallowed it.

“I am?”

“I thought you might persuade her.  Point out to her what a lot hangs on her coming back.  Jolly her along, you know the sort of thing!”

“But, my dear old friend, I tell you I don’t know her!”

Mr. Benham’s eyes opened behind their zareba of glass.

“Well, she knows you.  When you came through the lobby just now she said that you were the only real human being she had ever met.”

“Well, as a matter of fact, I did take a fly out of her eye.  But—­”

“You did?  Well, then, the whole thing’s simple.  All you have to do is to ask her how her eye is, and tell her she has the most beautiful eyes you ever saw, and coo a bit.”

“But, my dear old son!” The frightful programme which his friend had mapped out stunned Archie.  “I simply can’t!  Anything to oblige and all that sort of thing, but when it comes to cooing, distinctly Napoo!”