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The girl drea fantasy,

desolate and cold to the heart in an alien air, she sought for poppy and

h not for

herself, not as before It can hardly be said that she was unhappy She

walked in a pageant of strange miseries, and the pos from some fateful land, those passionate, pale

woe spelled love, ruin, despair, and

death, they were her kindred, her sisters Day and night they kept her

corew at last to a still and dreanant

Of necessity, iht

hours she ht

cahts and music and loud

applause there entered Monimia, or Belvidera, or Athenais When the play

was done and the curtain fallen, the crowd of those ould have stayed

her ever gave way, daunted by her eyes, her closed lips, the atmosphere

that yet wrapped her of passion, woe, and exaltation, the very tragedy of

the soul that she had so richly painted Like the ghost of that woman who