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LUNCH AT THE CLUB
A well-known, middle-aged actor, a colonial governor and a prison visitor were lunching at the club and out of compliment to our actor guest we talked of the theatre. "You like my acting?" he asked, his round face beaming with pride.
I had known him as a schoolboy before he had given up cricket for the theatre and I risked offending him. "I am afraid I don't like 'acting'!"
He looked rather shocked and glanced at the colonial governor who was smiling complacently and at the prison visitor's knowing countenance. Surely they spent their life in acting, so why shouldn't he do his bit on the stage?
"Can't you see the change that is taking place?" I added. "People are going to the theatre for quite different reasons."
He was inclined to agree but he did not know what to do about it. It struck uncomfortably deep at the foundations of life and it was too late, or he was too lazy, to change.
"We must sublimate our ideas by dwelling in the realms of fantasy," the colonial governor said politely; he was a very cultured man.
' 'We all delight in make-believe," the prison visitor agreed with a pleasant smile.
The middle-aged actor looked relieved. "I must go and see my agent. Come and see our new show" — he glanced at me — "if you can put up with 'acting'!"
We three were left alone. "Are you writing a book?" the prison visitor asked suspiciously. He often caught criminals out by a direct question.
"Possibly," I answered.
"Do you really think that the theatres and cinemas are changing?" the colonial governor asked. He too found the present age of transition uncomfortable.
"More than we realize," I said, " 'acting' in the old-fashioned sense of the word is less popular every day."
"You must give examples." The prison visitor sat back with an air of defiance.
"Of course I will, as many as you like, ancient and modern."
"It is all rather disconcerting," the colonial governor sighed. "Acting was so picturesque. I suppose you consider the glamour of the past a mere mass of cobwebs, outside the main stream of life."
I nodded. He had always been remarkably good at appreciating other people's ideas, even at his prep, school.
"I'll read it," the prison visitor said patronizingly, "if it's not all theory and you really will give examples."
I promised — and to this lunch I gratefully dedicate this book.
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