At last I tried a dramatic agent, and got on the music hall stage. Winifred's face had a thoroughly amiable look. Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. Three times he uttered a phrase: "A djinn in a blue-serge coat!" And each time he would follow it with a chuckle—the chuckle of a soul in damnation. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. It was just then that she came face to face with Nigel Ennison. Caliban, who, through the interest of Mr.
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