I went at last when I had barely a shilling in my purse to a dramatic agent. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to turn it. She heard him crash against it, and turned the key in the lock. “You must have heard—have you—oh, tell me, won’t you?” she begged. Traci was the most grateful, because he stopped his sexual advances.
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