The young fellow was almost as odd in his way as the girl was in hers. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. She mounted the stairs of the theatrical agent’s office with very much less than her usual buoyancy, nor did she find much encouragement in the general appearance of the room into which she was shown. The doorbell tinkled and Michelle grabbed her purse and rushed down the creaky wooden stairs. But, what is it! What did you promise?" "To offer you my heart, my hand, my life," replied Kneebone, falling at her feet.
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