"With me?" said Thames. . ” She shook her head. . ” Annabel moistened her dry lips with a handkerchief steeped in eau de Cologne. I went at last when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. Her life hangs upon a thread, and this may snap it. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. . The poor things! Oh, it was quite dreadful.
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