At luncheon, on the third day, a thick-set man with a blue jaw smiled across his table at her. " "What is it?" asked the poor woman. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. “Well?” she said. He certainly bore inspection. He must be more or less of an age with this man. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. The wedding procession passed on, and the cynical rabble poured in behind.
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