Rose.
Nor I, at this rate, many more months. They are killing me—like Agnes in The Specter of St. Ives. She expires, in the fourth act, as I shall die in Cavendish Square, painfully, of no recognized disorder—
Nor I, at this rate, many more months. They are killing me—like Agnes in The Specter of St. Ives. She expires, in the fourth act, as I shall die in Cavendish Square, painfully, of no recognized disorder—