‘Why do you stand there? Take him up, and bring him out at once. ” Annabel yawned. She drifted, via Theobald’s Road, obliquely toward the region about Titchfield Street. He slapped his knee. David Courtlaw. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. “There are some people,” he said at last, “who seem fated to carry on their shoulders the burdens of other people. And even she was forced to admit to herself that this last resource of hers was a slender reed on which to lean.
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