“I suppose he’s frightfully clever,” said Miss Klegg. ” “John, do you remember me at all?” “Lucy?!” He cried in disbelief. . The recollection was too painful, and he burst into an agony of tears. It’s a sort of blacklegging to want to have a life of one’s own. We begin rehearsing on Monday at the ‘Garrick’. A queer nut. But I sent him the longest way about. “You’re not interested in politics?” he asked, almost with a note of protest. "He's safe enough, I assure you.
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