He sent a speculative glance at the immobile yellow face. Wanted her out of the way because he had been afraid of her, afraid of himself! He, at fifty-four! Then into this void poured a flaming anger, a blind and unreasoning anger. Capes—the ‘Capes crave,’ they would call it in America. The manager, however, who stood in the wings, nodded to her to proceed, and the orchestra commenced the first few bars of the music. For awhile he watched the revolving light on Copeley's.
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