"We are such puppets in the great play! How strange it all is! How dangerously close real life is, always skirting the precipice of tragedy! Plans fail, lines tangle, and lives are changed forever by events seemingly insignificant.

To-morrow is always mystery.

I wonder, is it not a dim consciousness of this that renders the stage so attractive to the multitude?
Even its burlesques, its lurid melodramas, are never utterly beyond the possible.

Everywhere are found stranger stories than any romancer can invent; and yet we sometimes term our lives commonplace." She leaned back against the wall, a sob coming into her voice.

"What--what is going to be the end of this--for me ?" "Whatever you will," he exclaimed passionately, forgetful of all but her power over him.