“You were born for great things,” he said huskily. They came from every part, from the pit, the circle and the gallery, even from the stalls. He was completely, devastatingly handsome. Hot coffee and cakes were sent in to them in the morning by some intelligent sympathizer, or she would have starved all day. “Why did you lie to that man?” he asked fiercely. He sat alone in his brother’s old car night after night that summer, staring blankly at the red sky beyond the abandoned farmhouse where she had once shown him her secrets. ‘I’ll make it, miss.
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