“Yes, but maybe later. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. I learned of your betrothal, gleaned all the information I could simply by eavesdropping. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. And here he was, but a hundred yards away, this wastrel who trailed his genius through the mud. He was content to watch her accepting compliments and gaudy bouquets full of red roses, white carnations, and purple statice.
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