A little more craft, a little more
patience--it is with these that the world is conquered. The world
was her enemy, and had proved too strong; woman though she was--
only a girl striving to attain the place for which birth adapted
her--pursuing only her irrepressible instincts--fate flung her to
the ground pitilessly, and bade her live out the rest of her time in
wretchedness.
No! There remained one more endeavour that was possible to her, one
bare hope of saving herself from the extremity which only now she
estimated at its full horror. If that failed, why, then, there was a
way to cure all ills.
From her box, that in which were hidden away many heart-breaking
mementoes of her life as an actress, she took out a sheet of
notepaper and an envelope. Without much thought, she wrote nearly
three pages, folded the letter, addressed it with a name only 'Mr.
Kirkwood.' Sidney's address she did not know; her father had
mentioned Red Lion Street, that was all. She did not even know
whether he still worked at the old place, but in that way she must
try to find him. She cloaked herself, took her umbrella, and went
out.
At a corner of St.
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