The infusion Martin’s and her talents had inspired many students to work much harder than they ever had previously as the season came to a head. It feels like too much gold-dust clutched in one’s hand. You did not say a word about it last week, nor have you written. I should require you to accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of England. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together.
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