A man, then, rushed up the entry, and, seizing the unlucky carpenter by the collar, presented a drawn sword to his throat. Then she moved towards the door. In the upper hall he paused to listen. 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. ‘I don’t think you need do that, Melusine—if I may call you so. Visiting? Dressed for it, certainly.
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