is with you?”
“My husband died a long, long while ago, Joe.”
Old Danby shook his head.
“You never ought to have married out of the profession, Julie. I’m not saying a word against the late—I can’t remember his name; never could—but you shouldn’t have done it, an artist like you. Shall I ever forget the way you used to knock them with ‘Rumpty-tiddley-umpty-ay’?”
“Ah! how wonderful you were in that act, Joe.” Aunt Julia sighed. “Do you remember the back-fall you used to do down the steps? I always have said that you did the best back-fall in the profession.”
“I couldn’t do it now!”
“Do you remember how we put it across at the Canterbury, Joe? Think of it! The Canterbury’s a moving-picture house now, and the old Mogul runs French revues.”