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. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. She slipped past the servants, her soft roe-skin shoes unheard on the old stone. Utter silence answered him. ‘Wait, Jacques! I will find the way to open this.
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