” 74 She hung up the phone. ’ Roding blinked. Too much, perhaps. Even the light was different in Athens, soft and golden, sweet as the morning dew blessed by Athena herself. ‘It is London’s loss, ma’am. 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. “Mean as an old mule, too. ” “Come in out of the cold,” said Capes, and took her arm.
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