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421 ‘Happy to know you, sir.’ Mr Folair touched the brim of his hat with his forefinger, and then shook hands. ‘A recruit, sir, I understand?’ ‘An unworthy one,’ replied Nicholas. ‘Did you ever see such a set-out as that?’ whispered the actor, drawing him away, as Crummles left them to speak to his wife. ‘As what?’ Mr Folair made a funny face from his pantomime collection, and pointed over his shoulder. ‘You don’t mean the infant phenomenon?’ ‘Infant humbug, sir,’ replied Mr Folair. ‘There isn’t a female child of common sharpness in a charity school, that couldn’t do better than that. She may thank her stars she was born a manager’s daughter.’ ‘You seem to take it to heart,’ observed Nicholas, with a smile. ‘Yes, by Jove, and well I may,’ said Mr Folair, drawing his arm through his, and walking him up and down the stage. ‘Isn’t it enough to make a man crusty to see that little sprawler put up in the best business every night, and actually keeping money out of the house, by being forced down the people’s throats, while other people are passed over? Isn’t it extraordinary to see a man’s confounded family conceit blinding him, even to his own interest? Why I know of fifteen and sixpence that came to Southampton one night last month, to see me dance the Highland Fling; and what’s the consequence? I’ve never been put up in it since--never once-- while the “infant phenomenon” has been grinning through artificial flowers at five people and a baby in the pit, and two boys in the gallery, every night.’ ‘If I may judge from what I have seen of you,’ said Nicholas, |