"Well, Sir?" cried the other, eagerly. There was going to be no quarter between these two. And Rollo, who had been waiting for some encouraging sound, presented himself at the doorway. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. Yesterday!—who cared? To-morrow!—who knew? "Porpoise," she said, touching his hand. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off.
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