A town called Foster. . 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. But be patient, I am your fast friend. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence. Over the mantel, set into an ornately carved panel with fluted columns at each end, was a portrait of a man on horseback.
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