Two souls in travail; one inspired by fresh hopes, the other, by fresh despairs. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris. "Leave the room instantly, sirrah!" rejoined the lady, bouncing up, and giving him a slap on the cheek that made his eyes flash fire. Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. “Then turn round and go back there,” she directed.
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