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At the far end of the table there was a stir, a cough, and the grating of a chair on the floor; and slowly, with that easy grace which actors of the old school learned in the days when acting was acting, Mr. Maxwell Faucitt, the boarding-house's oldest inhabitant, rose to his feet. "Ladies," said Mr.
"You get me now? What am I to say to her? She'll be sore!" "The problem," Jimmy had begun, "is one which, as you suggest, presents certain " when there was a knock at the door and the head of the boarding-house's maid-of-all-work popped in. "Mr. Bayliss, is Mr. Mitchell ? Oh, say, Mr. Mitchell, there's a lady down below wants to see you. Says her name's Chester."
Faucitt, bowing courteously, "and..." ceasing to bow and casting from beneath his white and venerable eyebrows a quelling glance at certain male members of the boarding-house's younger set who were showing a disposition towards restiveness, "... gentlemen. I feel that I cannot allow this occasion to pass without saying a few words." His audience did not seem surprised.
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