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Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"


The wonderful thing about it was that she carried that eagerness beyond
the confines of her own job. And she put it to good effect too. She had
taken that Larson girl and, by the plain force of personal dominance,
made her talk right. Well, why? That was the question. Who was she
anyway? Where had she come from? Who was "the only person who really
mattered" to her--the person who wasn't a pussy-cat?
He had tried hard to convince himself that these were all professional
questions. It was true they had a bearing on the more important and
perfectly legitimate question whether he had, in this altogether
extraordinary personality, discovered a new star. He had, during the
last quarter century, discovered a number--one or two of them
authentically of the first magnitude.
It would have simplified matters immensely if he could have seen Rose in
this category. But the stubborn fact was, he couldn't. She couldn't sing
a bit, and marked as her natural talent was for dancing, she hadn't
begun young enough ever to master the technique of it.


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