" "Graves. Manning’s handwriting, and opened his letter and read some lines before its import appeared. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. Their subsequent conversation is outside the scope of our story. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave.
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