have to take what we can get, but a man of your calibre can give us something to put our teeth in.
I don't know anything about motion pictures, Ambrose reminded his visitor.
You've said the very thing that convinces me you would be a genius in their construction, Ringrose cried enthusiastically. Your modesty is positive proof of your potential ability. Too many famous authors go to Hollywood with the idea that they know more about pictures than we do. They want to reform the industry. Take—as Ringrose hesitated, rat poison was on the tip of Ambrose's prompting tongue—Maeterlinck. I've seen your plays, Ringrose continued. I've read your stories. I've studied 'em from every angle. Not film material in themselves, perhaps. Not enough plot. But what character! What human interest! Every line indicates you have an enormous talent for screen-work. You are a creator, if I may say so. Turn you loose with me on a lot and we could produce a masterpiece. I see a mediæval castle with a moat, a chase of men in armour. . . .
But I never wrote anything like that, Ambrose interpolated.
You don't know what you can do, Mr. Deacon, indeed you don't know till you try.
