Never mind; perhaps they'll have another to finish up.

There's lot's more in the programme." Mr Armstrong watched it all with the same critical interest as before, but his mind was far away.

It wandered to the foreign city, to the gaunt pauper hospital there, to a little low bed where lay an old dying friendless man, tossing and moaning for the laggard death to give him rest.

He saw nothing of what went on before him; he felt none of the merry boy's nudges at his side; he even forgot Roger and Maxfield.
The performance was over at last.
"Well, that _was_ a jolly spree! I wish it was coming all over again," chirped the boy.

"Oh, thank you awfully, Mr Armstrong, for bringing me.