“How’s my friend, the ex-Jehu?” he laughed.
“Fine! I hope you are well.”
“I’m all right. How’s the play?”
“I have it here. It is good.”
“Good, is it?” Mr. Frohman’s eyes twinkled.
“Yes. My—Mrs. Jocelyn worked at it with me, and I have to admit that the success, if it is one, is largely due to her.”
“She is a writer, too?”
“No, but she has a keen dramatic sense. She understands character, too.”
“So? Lucky for you. Does she want her name on the bills?”
“She has never spoken of it, but I wish her to go on as co-dramatist.”
“All right. Clever wife is an asset. Now we’ve got just two hours. Go ahead—read me what you’ve got there.”
Jarvis unpacked the manuscript and began. He had worked over the scenes so often with Bambi that he fell into her dramatic way of “doing” the scenes. Once or twice the manager chuckled as he recognized her touch and intonation on a line. Certainly Jarvis had never read so well. He was encouraged by frequent laughs from his audience.
