There is a tragedy to come. The door closed softly upon her. If ever he requires my services, he shall find I'm not ungrateful. The person, shortly afterwards ushered into the room, seemed by the imperfect light,—for the evening was advancing, and the chamber darkened by heavy drapery,—to be a middle-sized middle-aged man, of rather vulgar appearance, but with a very shrewd aspect. She spotted her opportunity. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were.
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