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Rinehart, Mary Roberts

"Bab"

Life is nothing but such changes. No
sooner do we alight on one Branch, and begin to sip the honey
from it, but we are taken up and carried elsewhere, perhaps to
the Mountains or to the Sea-shore, and there left to make new
friends and find new methods of Enjoyment.
The flight--or journey--was in itself an anxious time. For
on my otherwise clear conscience rested the weight of that
strange Suitcase. Fortunately Hannah was so busy that I was left
to pack my belongings myself, and thus for a time my gilty
secret was safe. I put my things in on top of the masculine
articles, not daring to leave any of them in the closet, owing
to house-cleaning, which is always done before our return in the
fall.
On the train I had a very unpleasant experience, due to Sis
opening my Suitcase to look for a magazine, and drawing out a
soiled gentleman's coller. She gave me a very peircing Glance,
but said nothing and at the next opportunity I threw it out of
a window, concealed in a newspaper.
We now approach the Catastrofe. My book on playwriting
divides plays into Introduction, Development, Crisis, Denouement
and Catastrofe.


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