To these letters Golly answered, in her own light-hearted way:--
DEAR GRANKINS,--I haven't seen John much--but I think he's like the
Private Secretary at the play--he "don't like London." Lordy!
there--I've let it out! I've been to a theayter. Nurse Jinny
Jones and me scrouged into the pit one night without paying,
"pertendin'," as we were in uniform, we had come to take out a
"Lydy" that had fainted. Such larks! and such a glorious theayter!
I'll tell you another time. Tell aunty the Queen's always out when
I call. But that's nothing, everybody else is so affable and
polite in London. Gentlemen--"real toffs," they call 'em--whom you
don't know from Adam--think nothing of speaking to you in the
street. Why, Nurse Jinny says--but there another patient's going
off who by rights oughter have died only to-morrow. "To-morrow and
to-morrow and to-morrow," as that barn-stormer actor said. But
they're always calling for that giddy young thing,
Your GOLLY.
Meantime, John Gale, having abruptly left Golly at the door of St.
Barabbas' hospital, tactfully avoiding an unseemly altercation with
the cab-driver regarding her exact fare, pursued his way
thoughtfully to the residence of his uncle, the First Lord of the
Admiralty. He found his Lordship in his bath-room. He was leaning
over the bath-tub, which was half full of water, contemplating with
some anxiety the model of a line-of-battle ship which was floating
on it, bottom upward.
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