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Webster, Henry Kitchell, 1875-1932

"The Real Adventure"


As she came back from one of these momentary excursions she found him
staring at her, and with a faint flush and a smile of contrition she
pulled herself back, as it were, into his presence.
"I know you're tired," he said bruskly. "But I fancied you'd be tireder
in the morning and I have to leave for New York on the fast train. So,
you see, it was now or never." Strangely enough, that got her. She
stared at him a little incredulous, almost in consternation.
"Do you mean you're going away?" she asked. "To-morrow?"
"Of course," he said rather sharply. "I've nothing more to stay around
here for." He added, as she still seemed not to have got it through her
head. "My contract with Goldsmith and Block ended to-night, with the
opening performance."
"Of course," she said in deprecation of her stupidity, "I didn't think
you were going to stay indefinitely--as long as the show ran. And yet I
never thought of your going away. It's always seemed that you were the
show--or, rather, that the show was you; just something that you made
go.


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