Her amusement fled and she stared at him, as a slow thump began beating at her breast. “I hope that whatever your plans may be, you will give me the opportunity of seeing something of you now and then. And there arose too, a background of shouts. “Heavens!” she exclaimed. “We will do Paris like the tourists, and thank God here comes dinner. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice. The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. He could not tell by the look of her whether she was glad or sorry that presently she would be free. "You can't go to sea with a book of rules.
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