Galapagos Regained Read Online Free PDF

Kean, and Mr. Throckmorton greeted Chloe with tepid smiles. The presence of her disappointed swain prompted Chloe briefly to consider—and reaffirm—her commitment to chastity, the best available approximation of the virginity she’d surrendered long ago. Not only was Adam Parminter the first man to seduce her, he’d also been the last. Although a slap on the cheek normally sufficed to deter a suitor’s untoward advances, occasionally she’d been obliged to introduce her favorite family heirloom, Grandpapa’s bayonet, into the relationship.
    Mr. Kean offered Chloe a chair, but she declined, explaining that she prided herself on receiving bad news without swooning.
    â€œNaturally I should like to overlook Wednesday night’s rabble-rousing,” the manager began, gesturing towards a copy of the Times splayed open on his desk. Even at this distance Chloe could read DISTURBANCE AT ADELPHI THEATRE . “But I fear we have a crisis on our hands. Either playgoers will boycott us to protest your tirade, or a Chartist mob will show up one night hoping to witness a repetition of your outburst. Ergo, I took the liberty of printing up an addendum to be pasted onto each patron’s playbill. ‘For this evening’s performance’”—he flashed his wife a smile—“‘Anne Bonney will be played by Ellen Tree.’”
    Mrs. Kean née Ellen Tree shifted uncomfortably in her chair.
    A queasiness spread through Chloe. “Am I banished for tonight only, or have you permanently cast me as woebegone Abigail in The Streetwalker and the Scalawag ?”
    â€œSpare us your self-pity,” said Mr. Kean. “Mrs. Kean and I intend to award you three pounds in severance pay, a sum sufficient to cover your needs till some other company employs you.”
    â€œIf I choose to remain a woman of the theatre, it will be as a dramatist, not an actress,” said Chloe. “Amongst the plays I intend to write is the saga of a second-rate highwayman doomed to compete with the reputation of his late uncle, the greatest thief of his day—rather the way the son of a famous actor might end up living in his father’s shadow.”
    A frown contracted Mr. Kean’s brow. Saying nothing, he used his handkerchief to polish the glass protecting his Master of Revels certificate.
    â€œMightn’t we give Chloe another chance?” asked Fanny.
    â€œShe doesn’t know what came over her on Wednesday,” added Mr. Throckmorton.
    â€œI know precisely what came over me,” said Chloe. “My father has been condemned to die of hard labor through no fault of his own—or, rather, through several faults of his own, none grave enough to merit such a fate.” Extending her index finger, she tapped the article concerning The Communist Manifesto . “I’ve already got a plot. Our second-rate highwayman takes his troubles out on his fellow robbers, dismissing them from the gang one by one. Desperate, the thieves hire a sorcerer to conjure up an avenging phantom. And so it happens that, just as Ebenezer Scrooge was visited by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future, so is our hero haunted by the spectre of Communism. Frightened out of his wits, he re-employs his former colleagues, and they straightaway stage a series of benefit robberies, using the proceeds to feed the residents of the nearest workhouse.”
    â€œLurid, but I like it,” said Mr. Throckmorton.
    â€œOverwrought, but oddly gripping,” said Fanny.
    â€œWhat you’ve described sounds like a melodrama,” said Ellen Tree, gazing at her husband, “but with some effort it might become a tragical romance—am I right, dear?”
    â€œI think not,” said Mr. Kean.
    â€œI’m going to call it The Bourgeois Bandito versus the Wheel of History, ” said Chloe.
    â€œIt’s time you cleaned out your dressing-room,” said Mr.