Always ready to talk,
theatrical landladies, when they've nothing to do. Trust me for
knowing the ropes!--come round to the stage door and let's ask the
keeper a question or two."
But before they had quitted the foyer an interruption came in the shape
of a shrewd-looking gentleman in evening dress, who wore his opera hat at
a rakish angle and seemed to be very much at home as he strolled about,
hands in pockets, looking around him at all and sundry. He suddenly
caught sight of Gilling, smiled surprisedly and expansively, and came
forward with outstretched hand.
"Bless our hearts, is it really yourself, dear boy!" exclaimed this
apparition. "Really, now? And what brings you here--God bless my soul and
eyes--why I haven't seen you this--how long is it, dear boy!"
"Three years," answered Gilling, promptly clasping the outstretched hand.
"But what are you doing here--boss, eh?"
"Lessee's manager, dear boy--nice job, too," whispered the other. "Been
here two years--good berth." He deftly steered Gilling towards the
refreshment bar, and glanced out of his eye corner at Copplestone.
"Friend of yours?" he suggested hospitably. "Introduce us, dear boy--my
name is the same as before, you know!"
"Mr. Copplestone, Mr. Montmorency," said Gilling. "Mr. Montmorency, Mr.
Copplestone."
"Servant, sir," said Mr. Montmorency. "Pleased to meet any friend of my
friend! And what will you take, dear boys, and how are things with
you, Gilling, old man--now who on earth would have thought of seeing
you here?"
Copplestone held his peace while Gilling and Mr.
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