And neither had any of that theatricality which demands gestures and facial expression. I made a wrong choice, it seems—but my voice remains. At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. A grimy, battered object, which had no place in the fashionable quarter of town. “I SAY!” said Mr. After him! A hundred pounds to the man who takes him. "I don't think he would leave me, even if I could part with him," observed Mrs. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off.
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