She smiled mechanically at the audience, holding her violin limply, feeling the hot lights on her made-up face. The mock astonishment of his face immediately became genuine. Never mind. When he awoke, it was late in the day; but though he heard voices outside, and now and then caught a glimpse of a face peeping at him through the iron grating over the door, no one entered the prison, or held any communication with him. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup.
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