A Candle for St. Jude

A Candle for St. Jude

A Candle for St. Jude

A Candle for St. Jude

Excerpt

Thirty years ago Madame Holbein had seen the wistaria. and taken the house. "I didn't look at anything else," she said. "I didn't need to."

"You didn't look at the drains and look at the drains!" said Miss Ilse.

The wistaria grew over the coach-house that Madame had converted into the theatre. "It is a perfect setting. Perrfect! Those shutters! That scrolled-iron balcony above it! The wistaria!" It was, truthfully, like a stage wistaria; Madame almost felt indignant with it for not being in flower for her winter season in December. "There is not another like it in the whole of London," she said.

The theatre was the reason for the existence of the school. Madame had started it when she had retired from ballet those thirty years ago. It had been her brother Jan's idea, his dream that he did not live to see. "And he was spared a lot of trrouble, not?" said Madame. She had planned it as a self-contained unit, a theatre with its own company trained in its own school, self-contained, though small.

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