Her eyes were dilated— fixed in a horrified stare at the parting in the curtains which hung before the window. “Of course, I remember now. Henry Clay, thirteen cents in Hong-Kong and two-bits in that dear old New York. ‘I have no idea. 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. "But why didn't you make yourself known at once?" "I'd forgotten the office you hold in the Mint, Baptist," replied Rowland.
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