"Good-b'ye, Jack," said Figg, putting on his hat. There was a strip of old rose brocade in the making that set an ache in the girl's heart for the want of it. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. “I thought I saw her in town to-day,” he said. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. Goopes down on him with the lesson Titian teaches so beautifully in his “Sacred and Profane Love,” and became quite eloquent upon the impossibility of any deception in the former. "You don't recollect me, I presume?" premised the stranger, taking a seat. Believe me, Anna.
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