"I'm going to tell your under-study to get ready quick."

An enormous altercation uprose, and faces peeped from every door in the
corridor; but Mr. Prohack stayed not. Ozzie led him to Mr. Asprey
Chown's private room. The Terror of the departments was shaken. Ozzie
laughed gently as he shut the door.

"What will happen?" asked Mr. Prohack, affecting a gaiety he did not
feel.

"What do you think will happen?" simpered Ozzie blandly, "having due
regard to the fact that Miss Fiddle has to choose between three hundred
and fifty pounds a week and a law-suit with Chown involving heavy
damages? I must say there's nobody like Blaggs for keeping these three
hundred and fifty pound a week individuals in order. Chown would sooner
lose forty of them than lose Blaggs. And Eliza knows it. By the way,
what do you think of the show?"

"Will it succeed?"

"You should see the advance booking. There's a thousand pounds in the
house to-night. Chown will be clearing fifteen hundred a week when he's
paid off his production."

"Well, it's marvellous."

"You don't mean the show?"

"No. The profit."