ToC Thames Darrell's fears were not, however, groundless. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. 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. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. The low ceiling made him seem abnormally tall. He hated himself a little for it. “Want to see my fangs?” She asked.
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