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. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. With her foodle doo! "I've a toast to propose," cried Sheppard, filling a bumper.
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