"It is your son. " This exclamation had scarcely escaped him, when the discharge of a pistol was heard, and a bullet whizzed past his ears. “I didn’t think you’d come. 1. Wished to see you. And then came the vile experience of being forced and borne along the street to the police-station. ‘Would you care for some refreshment? A glass of wine, perhaps?’ ‘Nothing, merci, I do not remain,’ she answered, although she did not rise. 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. But no more of that. “I think, aunt,” she said, “you might trust to my self-respect to keep me out of that.
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