That morning Reben had wakened early with a head full of inspirations. He was fairly lyrical with ideas. He wanted to talk them over with Sheila. He called up her   
room. Pennock answered the telephone.
 
“Can I speak to Miss Kemble?”
 
“She—she’s not up yet.”
 
“Oh! Well, as soon as she is up have her let me know. I want a word with her.”
 
“Yes, sir.”
 
Pennock, in dismay, called up Winfield’s hotel to forewarn Sheila. But Winfield had gone out, leaving word that his wife was not to be disturbed. Pennock left a 
 
message that she was to call up Miss Pennock as soon as she was disturbable. The message was put in Winfield’s box. When he came in he did not stop at the desk to 
 
inquire for messages, since he expected none.
 
Reben grew more and more eager to explain his new ideas to Sheila. He called up Pennock again.
 
“Isn’t Miss Kemble up yet?”
 
“Oh yes,” said Pennock.
 
“I want to speak to her.”
 
The distracted Pennock groped for the nearest excuse:
 
“She—she’s gone out.”
 
“But I told you to tell her! Didn’t you tell her I wanted to speak to her?”
 
“Oh yes, sir.”
 
“What did she say?”
 
“Nothing, sir; nothing,” Pennock faltered. She had told one big lie that morning and her invention was exhausted.
 
“That’s damned funny,” Reben growled. Slapping the receiver on the hook, he went to the cigar-stand, fuming, and bought a big black cigar to bite on.
 
When plays are failures one’s friends avoid one. When plays are successes strangers crowd forward with congratulat............