’ ‘A convent?’ echoed Gerald with interest. A brief calm succeeded. Stanley pronounced, and seemed to hesitate whether he had not gone too far. Seconds went by, and the cannon fired just as Rhea descended upon Lucy. He dodged the boot this time, and smashed his left upon the Wastrel's lips, leaving them bloody pulp. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. The three clerks fought for the only window, and saw her whisked into a hansom. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. From the window he saw The Tigress faring toward Copeley's! Then somebody was coming? Some political high muckamuck, probably.
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