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Rh "By the way, p'raps we can do some business together; who knows? Yer 'avent got anything in the comic duologue line on yer hands, 'ave yer? Somethin' that would suit my Bob Saunders and little Clara Mandeville, yer know. You know the sort of thing I mean."

Maxwell and I regretted that we had nothing on hand that would suit him. An impatient growl from Captain Talboys warned us that he considered that the audience had lasted quite long enough; so we beat a rapid retreat, and proceeded, in company with the servant, to go through the hollow form of inspecting the apartments.

I am sorry to say, that the rooms to which our attention was principally directed were at that moment in process of being vacated by a gentleman, who had given notice of his intention to quit on the preceding evening, immediately after, and in consequence of, the disturbance between Captain Talboys and his unhappy wife. There was only one other lodger, an undesirable Irish tenant, whom Mrs. Talboys had made repeated but fruitless efforts to get rid of.

We mumbled out something to the servant about returning to-morrow, and giving a definite answer, and then made the best of our way to the theatre. The rehearsal was unsatisfactory; no one was perfect, or anything like it; properties had to be made, music to be scored and learnt, and comic dances to be decided on. At two o'clock we were all cleared off in order that the rest of the afternoon might be devoted to the last scene—a complicated absurdity, that took ten minutes to develope, and looked, eventually, more like a gorgeous valentine than anything I ever saw. The stereotyped assurance