His hand fell lightly to her chest where her heart was 211 beating, almost tenderly. There was plenty of sweet water. . The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. These were his mistresses, Poll Maggot and Edgeworth Bess. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. Locked! He sped out to the corridor and went swiftly into the next room. She warmed to him fast, her anger was much harder to carry than the pleasant everyday neutrality of affection.
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