His clothes were smartly pressed, his linen white, his jaws cleanly shaven; but the day would come when he would grow indifferent to bodily cleanliness. "And who is this Van Gal—Gal—what's his outlandish name?" "Van Galgebrok," replied the widow. It’s—Mrs. Hurrying down the Haymarket, he was arrested by a crowd who were collected round a street-singer. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. Do you think that I shall ever make an actress, my friend?” “I doubt it,” he answered bluntly. Ennison slightly——” There was a dead silence in the little room.
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