I don't profess to be an actor."
"Mark good?"
"Oh, rather. He loves it."
"Rev. Henry Stutters--Mr. Matthew Cay," read Antony.
"Was that our friend Cayley?"
"Yes."
"Any good?"
"Well, much better than I expected. He wasn't keen, but Mark
made him."
"Miss Norris wasn't playing, I see."
"My dear Tony, she's a professional. Of course she wasn't."
Antony laughed again.
"A great success, was it?"
"Oh, rather!"
"I'm a fool, and a damned fool," Antony announced solemnly. "And
a damned fool," he said again under his breath, as he led Bill
away from the poster, and out of the yard into the road. "And a
damned fool. Even now--" He broke off and then asked suddenly,
"Did Mark ever have much trouble with his teeth?"
"He went to his dentist a good deal. But what on earth--"
Antony laughed a third time.
"What luck!" he chuckled. "But how do you know?"
"We go to the same man; Mark recommended him to me. Cartwright,
in Wimpole Street."
"Cartwright in Wimpole Street," repeated Antony thoughtfully.
"Yes, I can remember that.
Pages:
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282