Many years ago, a version of Hamlet was put on by the London Players at ---------, in which the leading man was hailed as 'the greatest actor ever to grace the London stage.' He was considered by many who saw him perform to be the most talented man in Britain, while his admirers called him the most talented man in the world.
I saw this selfsame man, one night, not on the stage, but in a quiet pub in one of the lower-class neighborhoods of the city. He was talking with a jacka detectivewho'd been sniffing around his affairs for quite some time. As it is my particular business to notice everything, I knew that the man was running a bit of forgery-work on the side; the jack knew this, and the actor knew he knew it. And as I watched, the greatest actor in London began to sweat and stutter under the escop's steely gaze, and not five minutes later he had confessed all, and was taken away in chains