"Phyllistine," Galloway said, not knowing Hammersmith's heart anymore, and broke the man's neck-hurry up! -Start again with applause.

"Until the place, time, every situation of wealth, hug me tightly, and then jump down. I am the viola."

From the mouth of Constantinople, these lines are a revelation. It seems that "The Twelfth Night" is a new play, and some of the viola works are only composed by Constance Lichfield. The actors who performed on the same stage with her felt that their conceit was shrinking when faced with such a gift.

The last scene continues to its bitter and sweet ending, and the audience is as always concerned by their breathlessness.

The Duke said, "Give me your hand and let me see you in the grass of your woman."

During the rehearsal, the line’s invitation was ignored: no one could touch the viola, let alone hold her hand. But in the heat of the performance, this taboo was forgotten. The actor was occupied by the passion of the moment when Constantinople came. She forgot her taboo and reached out to answer his feelings.

Lichfield's wings "no" breathed in his breath, but his command was not heard. Under this painted sky, the Duke held Viola's hand in his care for life and death.

It was cold hands, no blood in the veins and red skin.

But here it is still alive.

They are equal, the living and the dead, no one can find a legitimate reason to separate them.

Litchfield sighed on the wing and made himself smile. He was worried about this contact, worried about breaking the spell. But Dionysus is with them tonight. everything will get better. He felt it in his bones.

The action was over, Marvolio still brags about his threats, and was pushed down even in failure. The company withdrew one by one, and only the clown tricks were left.

"The world started a long time ago. Hey, wind and rain, but nothing more, our game is complete. We will try to please you every day."

The scene darkened and the curtains dropped. Fanatic applause emanated from the applause of the gods, the same loud and empty applause. The company is formed behind the bow tie, and their faces shine with the success of the rehearsal. The curtains rose: applause rang.

Galloway joined Lichfield. He is now dressed: he has washed the blood from his neck. Skull said: "Well, we have made brilliant achievements." "It seems a shame that this company should be dissolved so quickly."

"Yes," said the body.

The actors are now shouting to Wings, calling on Galloway to join them. They applauded him and encouraged him to show up.

He put his hand on Lichfield's shoulder.

"We will go together, sir," he said.

"No, no, I can't."

"You must. This is my victory." Lichfield nodded, and they went out and bowed next to the company.

Tallulah works on the wings. After sleeping in the green room, she felt recovered. Many unpleasant things disappeared in her life. She no longer suffers from hip pain or scalp neuralgia. It is no longer necessary to breathe with feces that have accumulated 70 years of history, and there is no need to wipe the back of the hand to make blood circulation unimpeded. You don't even need to blink. She ignited the fire with new powers, making the wrecks made in the past difficult to use: old backgrounds, props and costumes. When she was filled with enough combustibles, she hit a match and lit the flame. Elysium began to burn. In the applause, someone shouted: "Wonderful, sweetheart, wonderful."

This was Diane's voice, and although they couldn't see her, everyone recognized it. She hobbled along the channel in the center of the stage, deceiving herself and others.

"Silly dog," Eddie said.

"Oh," Galloway said.

He is now on the edge of the stage, harassing him.

"Get everything you want now? Is this your new lover? Is it?"

He tried to get up, her hand gripping the hot metal hood of the footlight tightly. Her skin started to have a fever: fat burned very well in the fire.

"For God's sake, someone stopped her," Eddie said. But she didn't seem to feel the heat in her hands. She just smiled on his face. The smell of burning meat wafted under his feet. The company went bankrupt and the victory was forgotten.

Someone shouted: "Kill all!"

There was a beating, and then the stage lights went out. After Diane fell, her hand smoked. One of them fainted, and the other rushed to the wings and got sick. Somewhere behind them, they could hear a faint fire, but they had other calls.

As the footlight disappeared, they could see the auditorium more clearly. The stall is empty, but the balcony and gods are full of eager worshipers. Every row is packed with people, every inch of available aisle space is packed with spectators. Before the applause resumed, someone there clapped again, alone for a while. But few companies are now proud of it.

Even from the stage, even the tired and bright eyes, it is obvious that among the worshiping crowd, no man, woman or child is alive. They waved the exquisite silk handkerchiefs with their rotten fists. Some of them had a tattoo on the seat in front of them. Most of them were just clapping hands, with the bones on the bones.

Galloway smiled and bowed deeply, thankful. In 15 years of work in the theater, he has never found the audience to appreciate it so much.

Constantinople and Richard Lichfield, bathed in the love of admirers, went hand in hand, stepped off the stage and bowed, while the living actors flinched in horror.

They started yelling, praying, and shouting, and they ran around like adulterers found in a farce. But, like a farce, there is no way out. The fly burns with bright flames, and when the fly catches fire, the huge waves of canvas cascade from left to right. In the front, the dead: in the back, the dead. The smoke began to thicken the air, making it impossible to see where it was going. Someone was wearing a burning canvas robe, reciting screams. Someone is waving a fire extinguisher to hell. All useless: all tired business, poor management. When the roof began to yield, the deadly fall of timber and girders silenced most people.

Among the gods, the audience more or less left. They returned to the tomb long before the fire brigade appeared. Their cement and faces were illuminated by the firelight. They glanced over their shoulders and watched the destruction of Paradise. It was a wonderful performance. They were happy to go home, chatting in the dark and satisfied.

Although the fire department spared no effort to put out the fire, the fire burned all night. At four o'clock in the morning, the battle was abandoned due to failure, and the fire made it impossible to move. It had completed the Elysium before dawn.

The remains of several people were found in the ruins, and most of the bodies in the state are not easily identified. After consulting the dental records, it was found that one of the corpses was Chief Gilles Hammersmith, the other was Ryan Xavier's stage manager, and the most shocking one was Diana Duval's third. The tabloid said: "The Star of Love Child was burned to death." She was forgotten within a week.

There are no survivors. There are no corpses at all.

They stood on the side of the highway, watching the cars all night.

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