Donohue: “Sir.”
“Well, Donohue?”—O’Hagan.
“Captain Haverley, with Lady Rundel at Folly Theatre; stalls; Row B; numbers 6 and 7.”
“Very good.”
Exit Donohue.
This paragon must have delighted the gloomy soul of Athos.
Bernard O’Hagan, having finished his coffee, discarded the loose robe for the purple-lined cloak, pulled on his gloves, and sallied forth into Whitehall, cloak flying, holding his cane like an Italian rapier, and generally comporting himself as some Buckingham bound for St. James’s.
He turned his steps in the direction of the Folly, however. To the box-office clerk:
“I require a stall.”
“We have only three vacant, sir.”