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"You will come back to me. You and I both know you will," he told me when we parted.
"Do you wish to continue to collaborate?" I responded. "Will my name be on the plays we write—and will I receive my share of any profit?"
"If you wish. But that is not important," he said in a dismissive voice. "What is important is that you can never leave me. Not really. When the final curtain falls, you will be there with me—and beyond."
"Here is an address of my editor in New York. You can reach me here. And the correspondence can continue as long as I receive what I have asked for."
Dane took the card on which I'd written Max Trudeau's name and address. Dane's thick eyebrows went up, and then he laughed. "You will have the devil to pay with that one, Charlie," he said.
"It can hardly be more devilish than life is with you, Professor Dane," I shot back.
"Ah, the arrogance of youth; you shall see."
And so I did.
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