“What are you doing over here? I suppose”⁠—old Danby’s cheerfulness waned a trifle⁠—“I suppose your husband 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!”