The period of repression was over. " "Let me touch you, then; let me feel if you are really flesh and blood," cried the poor maniac, creeping towards him on all fours. 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. But that's an infirmity shared by a great many sounder heads than mine. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly. Certain simple purposes emerged from the disingenuous muddle of her feelings and desires.
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