"And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. He wore a threecornered hat, a sandy-coloured scratch wig, and had a thick woollen wrapper folded round his throat. I am no use for a clerk, because I do not understand shorthand. “Good evening, Dorling,” he said. “John, you were never bound to me, you don’t owe me anything. She had asked to borrow his pencil out of dire necessity. Then making a pretence of stooping to rearrange her flowing train, she glanced at Anna, and half stopped in her progress down the room. A sarcastic smile seemed to play upon the chief-taker's lips; and abashed at his own irresolution, the lad went on. A SCENE FROM THE PHOTOPLAY. “Sometimes it is not bad.
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