"The natives have foolish ways of saying things. ’ ‘What, Madame Valade?’ demanded Gerald. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. "That we were afraid," replied the other; "but never mind her. You can’t do without an agent, and there’s no one can run you better than I can. Well, kill me. . There stepped forth a tall brown man. She went to a dramatic agent, and he turned out to be the one who had heard me sing in Paris. “You did good!” She closed her eyes and rested in the moment, imagining a normal life where she would go to college, have babies with John, watch her children have children, live, and die as she had always wanted to. . " "So am I.
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