The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. She turned there and beckoned. ’ He closed the panel and came slowly out of the little dressing-room, Roding at his heels. I thank God for the beauty you love and the faults you love. I was Annabel the rake, ‘Alcide’ of the music halls. "You will never leave me," sobbed the poor woman, straining him to her breast.
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