The lips of the mask twisted upward into a smile. He looked like the shadow of himself—thin, feeble, hollow-eyed—his beard unshorn—nothing could be more miserable. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. It will be a little lonely sometimes,” she said, looking around at them, “and I shall miss you all, but it is the fairest for myself —and I think for you. ’ The dagger was in her hand.
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