You’ll end up dead, that’s what. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. Pretty! Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights! “You shall tell me your faults,” said Manning. Not even for Ruth could he do such a beastly thing. “I won’t go home,” she said; “I won’t!” and she evaded the clutch of the fatherly policeman and tried to thrust herself past him in the direction of that big portal.
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