“How CAN I tell him?” whispered Miss Stanley. She resolved not to allow him or her hunger detract from the performance at hand, as it would be a special one, an evening to be remembered in the gray days to follow like a precious jewel. Afterward she wanted to get her letter to her father back in order to read it over again, and, if it tallied with her general impression of it, re-write it. So, let's think no more about it. ‘Dare I suppose that to be of her making?’ Gerald flushed. They talked lightly but confidentially until Sir John approached them with a slight frown upon his face. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him. “Bring any new songs you may have. Oriental rugs adorned the sea of shiny hardwood floors, kept polished with an eye for detail that bordered on Japanese. ‘I will do so.
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