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Reade, Charles, 1814-1884

"Peg Woffington"

"Libelous lie against nature and Mrs. Woffington, take that!" and
he stabbed the canvas again; then, with sudden humility: "I beg your
pardon, ma'am," said he, "for this apparent outrage, which I trust you
will set down to the excitement attendant upon failure. The fact is, I am
an incapable ass, and no painter! Others have often hinted as much; but I
never observed it myself till now!"
"Right through my pet dimple!" said Mrs. Woffington, with perfect
_nonchalance._ "Well, now I suppose I may yawn, or do what I like?"
"You may, madam," said Triplet, gravely. "I have forfeited what little
control I had over you, madam."
So they sat opposite each other, in mournful silence. At length the
actress suddenly rose. She struggled fiercely against her depression, and
vowed that melancholy should not benumb her spirits and her power.
"He ought to have been here by this time," said she to herself. "Well, I
will not mope for him. I must do something. Triplet," said she.
"Madam."
"Nothing."
"No, madam."
She sat gently down again, and leaned her head on her hand, and thought.
She was beautiful as she thought!--her body seemed bristling with mind!
At last, her thoughtful gravity was illumined by a smile. She had thought
out something _excogitaverat._
"Triplet, the picture is quite ruined!"
"Yes, madam. And a coach-load of criticism coming!"
"Triplet, we actors and actresses have often bright ideas.


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