Earles said, slowly, keeping his eyes fixed upon her, “forty at the ‘Unusual,’ two turns, encores voluntary, six for matinées. The acid of this incertitude had disintegrated his nerve; and in Canton had come the smash. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder.
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