Miss R. I can't help what you would have thought, Sir; I know my own business. (To Germ. S.) I've given you my answer.
[Exit German Servant resignedly, his idea of a Lord Mayor somewhat lowered; Miss Redtape stamps letters with the serenity of conscious rectitude. Scene closes in.
Arms and the (Police) Man.
"Thrice is he armed who hath his quarrel just."
But sure that Force in self-defence will fail
Whose only armour, 'gainst the critic thrust,
Is found to be "Black Mail."
Visiting Liszt.—The latest and one of the most interesting papers on this erratic Abbé, is to be found in the Month for July. Tolle, lege. Also see London Society for The Hired Baby. The story is pathetic with here and there a vein of cynical humour. As for the moral——well, you can't expect much of a moral from a hired baby.