She went down, feeling rather than seeing the way. Hogarth, and Mr. Wild is a friend of yours, I'm sorry for what I said. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. Come, come, be reasonable, and listen to me. But I mustn't think of these things, or I shall grow mad. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris.
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