I hate myself!” She collapsed to the floor, sobbing. She read voraciously, and presently, because of her aunt’s censorship, she took to smuggling any books she thought might be prohibited instead of bringing them home openly, and she went to the theatre whenever she could produce an acceptable friend to accompany her. The young lady saw the change, and almost snorted. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. There was no marriage, and I hated, oh, how I hated the man. A dressing-room then.
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