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She did not wait, but grabbed up the lantern and slid into the passage, calling to them to hurry. He seemed to be thinking hard. Only her face was clear, frail and delicate, almost flower-like, with the sad haunting eyes ever watching his. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. The man turned at the exclamation, and so did several of the bystanders; but they could not make out who had uttered it. " "Probably not. ” “Ready for the performance next Friday?” Martin asked.
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