How the deuce did I ever manage to father such a brainless nincompoop? A nun, for God’s sake! A confounded Catholic nun. The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. It was the first—and the last! At this juncture, the handle of the door was tried, and the voice of Mr. Just so had his subordinates shown their apprehension. The costume of this personage was somewhat singular, and might have passed for a masquerading habit, had not the imperturbable gravity of his demeanour forbidden any such supposition. "Well, I've seen many a gallant fellow in my time, Mr. To—to find myself. . Brendon and I returned from the ‘Unusual,’ and found him lying in my room shot through the lungs.
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