The next weekend arrived and she made her decision. Her nerves were shattered, her senses dazed by this unexpected shock. He dropped the key on the counterpane. The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. He reached the top floor and ran down the corridor to the little dressing room at the end where he had lost her before. “Hand me the Jergens lotion, will you? How’d it go with John?” She asked. This person was speedily followed by half a dozen others, some of whom carried flambeaux. “If I do,” he said. Then there came briskly along the path towards her, an Englishman.
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