And the woollen-draper departed. Could she hold him and manage the reins? If only Gerald had not gone. She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. Then came the cable that you were in Canton, ill, but not dangerously so. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. Did you warn Frith?’ ‘Yes.
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