A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. It was very pretty and very dainty while it lasted, but we played it with our eyes open, and we perfectly understood the game—both of us. This is altogether insupportable. One of his converted Kanakas dropped in one day.
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