"To me?" gasped Winifred. " "What time is it?" inquired Jack. ” “Go!” he said. But if I were dying of thirst, in a desert, I would not accept a cup of water at her hands. You know—I worship you. Few men could have done as much. 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. She lit the cigarette with a tiny Kelly green drugstore lighter.
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