Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. I came out by the stagedoor of the Duke of York's Theatre at a quarter-past twelve on the first night of the production of Madame Sand, by Phillip Moeller. A girl of about fifteen, bare-headed, was standing against the wall, evidently waiting for some one. I said What are you waiting for? To see you. Where do you live? At Richmond. How are you going to get back? Walk. I walked here early this morning.