A little smothered cry broke from her lips—the curtains were thrown aside and a man stepped out. So she brought upon the stage the Reverend Henry Dolby, a preacher of means, worldly-wise and kindly, cheery and rotund, who, with his wife and daughter, had arrived at the Victoria that morning. He stood up and she ushered him out of the small room. “But why,” he said in the gasping voice of one subduing an agony, and looked at her from under a pain-wrinkled brow, “why did you not tell me this before?” “I didn’t know—I thought I might be able to control myself. I merely mention these circumstances to show the accuracy of my information. ‘I can manage now. "Read that. ” She put on a short dress that was sky blue, with thick straps about the shoulders. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy.
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