“Could you play ‘Fiddler on the Roof’?” father Thomas pleaded. Rhea writhed and scuttled about like a crab. Arrived at the audience-chamber, he set down the light upon a stand, threw open the door, and announced in a loud voice, but with the perfect intonation of the person he represented,—"Sir Rowland Trenchard. Once she heard him mutter, and she leaned down. After Capes had finished the Scotchman’s troubles he went back into the preparation-room.
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