“But could you have made money except by plays?” asked Clifford.

“Oh probably not! I may be a good writer or I may be a bad one, but a writer and a writer of plays is what I am, and I’ve got to be. There’s no question of that.”

“And you think it’s a writer of popular plays that you’ve got to be?” asked Connie.

“There, exactly!” he said, turning to her in a sudden flash. “There’s nothing in it! There’s nothing in popularity. There’s nothing in the public, if it comes to that. There’s nothing really in my plays to make them popular. It’s not that. They just are, like the weather⁠ ⁠… the sort that will have to be⁠ ⁠… for the time being.”