She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. She propped a pillow against his padded headboard and sat herself into a stiff upright position, legs expertly crossed. ‘That’s my pet name. I didn’t understand. Then he went back to his rooms and lit a cigar. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. Of you—an angel with one wing.
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