“Are we interrupting anything?” “No!” Martin jumped slightly. Anna sprang to her feet and made for the dressing-room door. “Goodnight. “Excellent!” he exclaimed. "I'll go to her directly," said Wood, bustling towards the door. If only sometimes he would grow angry at her, impatient! But his tender courtesy was unfailing; and under this would be the abiding bitterness of having mistaken gratitude for love.
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