The Golden Farce
THE GOLDEN FARCE THE GOLDEN FARCE The theater had been closed for thirty years, but Arthur Pendelton still kept a key to the front door. Not that anyone asked him to—no one did, not since his sister Beatrice passed in the spring of '09—but the habit held, like the smell of sawdust and mothballs that still clung to the velvet curtains long after the last performance had vanished into memory....
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