That evening, feeling that he had earned a little recreation, he went tothe Empire Theatre--not in Hanbridge, but in Leicester Square, London.The lease, with a prodigious speed hitherto unknown at Slossons, hadbeen drawn up, engrossed, and executed. The Piccadilly Circus land washis for sixty-four years.
"And I've got the old chapel pulled down for nothing," he said tohimself.
He was rather happy as he wandered about amid the brilliance of theEmpire Promenade. But after half an hour of such exercise, and of vainefforts to see or hear what was afoot on the stage, he began to feelrather lonely. Then it was that he caught sight of Mr. Alloyd thearchitect, also lonely.
"Well," said Mr. Alloyd curtly, with a sardonic smile, "they'vetelephoned me all about it. I've seen Mr. Wrissell. Just my luck! Soyou're the man! He pointed you out to me this morning. My design forthat church would have knocked the West End! Of course Mr. Wrissellwill pay me compensation, but that's not the same thing. I wanted theadvertisement of the building.... Just my luck! Have a drink, willyou?"
Edward Henry ultimately went with the plaintive Mr. Alloyd to his roomsin Adelphi Terrace. He quitted those rooms at something after twoo'clock in the morning. He had practically given Mr. Alloyd a definitecommission to design the Regent Theatre. Already he was practically theproprietor of a first-class theatre in the West End of London!
"I wonder whether Master Seven Sachs could have bettered my day's workto-day!" he reflected as he got into a taxicab. He had dismissed hiselectric brougham earlier in the evening. "I doubt if even Master SevenSachs himself wouldn't be proud of my little scheme in Eaton Square!"said he.... "Wilkins's Hotel, please, driver."