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Updated: June 7, 2025
She's playing Mabel Vane, Mary Archer is the name she uses, and he's Triplet. Isn't that so?" The manager nodded, eying her curiously. "Mr. Wyatt, you've heard of their trouble, of course? The accident this morning to their little boy?" "Ah, yes yes," said Wyatt. "Of course. Hurt by a fall, poor little fellow. Very serious. Yes, poor things! Did you want to see "
Oh, what clever men there are in the world in London, at least! He is a play-writer, too. I wonder my husband comes not. Does Mr. Vane does Mr. Vane admire this actress?" said she, suddenly. "Mr. Vane, madam, is a gentleman of taste," said he, pompously. "Well, sir," said the lady, languidly, "she is not here." Triplet took the hint and rose.
The last thing he thought of was poor Triplet; the rich do not dream how they disappoint the poor. Triplet's castle fell as many a predecessor had. When the lights were put out, he left the theater with a bitter sigh.
Finding the conversation taking this turn, the brats raised a unanimous howl. Triplet darted a fierce glance at them. As if I didn't know you are hungry." Lucy came to him directly. He took her on his knee, pressed her gently to his side, and wrote silently. The others were still. "Father," said Lucy, aged five, the germ of a woman, "I am not very hungry."
He therefore postponed his purpose, and strolled away to a short distance. Triplet justified the baronet's opinion. Without any sort of sequency he now informed Mrs. Vane that the benevolent lady was to sit to him for her portrait. Here was a new attention of Ernest's. How good he was, and how wicked and ungrateful she! "What! are you a painter too?" she inquired.
She had spoiled Triplet for this by being too tame, so when the dispensation came they sparred daily. They were now thoroughly unhappy. They were poor as ever, and their benefactress was dead, and they had learned to snap. A speculative tour had taken this pair to Bristol, then the second city in England. They sojourned in the suburbs.
But Ngalyema and his son did not fly. They caught the tails of my coat, and we began to dance from side to side, a loving triplet, myself being foremost to ward off the blow savagely aimed at my "brothers," and cheerfully crying out, "Hold fast to me, my brothers. I will defend you to the last drop of my blood. Come one, come all."
Vane's letter held out to Triplet. The amatory verse of that day was not up-hill work. There was a beaten track on a dead level, and you followed it. You told the tender creature, with a world of circumlocution, that, "without joking now," she was a leper, ditto a tigress, item marble.
"Because I wanted amusement, and my head ached," was the cool answer, somewhat languidly given. "I defy the coxcombs!" cried Triplet, with reviving spirit. "But real criticism I respect, honor, and bow to. Such as yours, madam; or such as that sweet lady's at Mr. Vane's would have been; or, in fact, anybody's who appreciates me.
when he had enjoyed for about thirty years the praise of Camilla's lightness of foot, he tried another experiment upon SOUND and TIME, and produced this memorable triplet: "Waller was smooth; but Dryden taught to join The varying verse, the full resounding line, The long majestic march, and energy divine."
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