touched a cold and trembling hand which had clutched her purse."

"Very good," interrupted the director, nodding his head
significantly.

"A pickpocket! Well!" exclaimed Mr. Bamberger, speaking the lines
that here fell to him.

"No, no, Mr. Bamberger," said the director, approaching, "not
that way. 'A pickpocket--well?' so. That's the idea."

"Don't you think," said Carrie weakly, noticing that it had not
been proved yet whether the members of the company knew their
lines, let alone the details of expression, "that it would be
better if we just went through our lines once to see if we know
them? We might pick up some points."

"A very good idea, Miss Madenda," said Mr. Quincel, who sat at
the side of the stage, looking serenely on and volunteering
opinions which the director did not heed.

"All right," said the latter, somewhat abashed, "it might be well
to do it." Then brightening, with a show of authority, "Suppose
we run right through, putting in as much expression as we can."

"Good," said Mr. Quincel.

"This hand," resumed Mrs. Morgan, glancing up at Mr. Bamberger
and down at her book, as the lines proceeded, "my mother grasped
in her own, and so tight that a small, feeble voice uttered an