She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. Jack Sheppard is to me what Thames Darrell is to you—an object of hatred. She was herself conscious of a recklessness of spirits almost hysterical. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music.
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