"Sometimes a cup of lies is a cheering thing," replied the trader. It looked very patient, she thought, and a little self-satisfied. The glass in the windows was broken—the roof unthatched—the walls dilapidated. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. “What a gloomy person you are!” she murmured. “In self-defence I had to,” she answered. " "You paint yourself worse than you are, dear Mrs. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John. ‘You are the one that I have met in London. I’ll feel fine as soon as I get out of my wet clothes.
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