"
"As you please, Sir,—provided you don't let him off. 1703. Then she goes to a dramatic agent. It was as if she had come
upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and
behind the door—nothing. It was also cold, and dark,
for there had been no time to light the lantern. And from that point they went on to a thoroughly embittering wrangle. She donned her
fuzzy slippers and traipsed downstairs, the welcoming
smell of coffee beckoning her, the sound of Looney
Toons music barely audible from the television set. It got on my nerves—the women
I saw. She was practically destitute of jewellery. This one was Henry Esmond, that one the
melancholy Marius, and so forth and so on; never any villains. Pipes were lighted; and Mr.
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