Pop Leibel: Oh yes, I remember. Carlotta, beautiful Carlotta, sad...It (the McKittrick Hotel) was hers. It was built for her many years ago...by...the name I do not remember, a rich man, powerful man...It is not an unusual story. She came from somewhere small to the south of the city. Some say from a mission settlement. Young, yes, very young. And she was found dancing and singing in cabaret by that man. And he took her and built for her the great house in the Western Addition. And, uh, there was, there was a child, yes, that's it, a child, a child. I cannot tell you exactly how much time passed or how much happiness there was, but then he threw her away. He had no other children. His wife had no children. So, he kept the child and threw her away. You know, a man could do that in those days. They had the power and the freedom. And she became the sad Carlotta, alone in the great house, walking the streets alone, her clothes becoming old and patched and dirty. And the mad Carlotta, stopping people in the streets to ask, 'Where is my child?' 'Have you seen my child?' ...She died...by her own hand. There are many such stories.
Pop Leibel : Oh yes, I remember. Carlotta, beautiful Carlotta, sad...It (the McKittrick Hotel) was hers. It was built for her many years ago...by...the name I do not remember, a rich man, powerful man...It is not an unusual story. She came from somewhere small to the south of the city. Some say from a mission settlement. Young, yes, very young. And she was found dancing and singing in cabaret by that man. And he took her and built for her the great house in the Western Addition. And, uh, there was, there was a child, yes, that's it, a child, a child. I cannot tell you exactly how much time passed or how much happiness there was, but then he threw her away. He had no other children. His wife had no children. So, he kept the child and threw her away. You know, a man could do that in those days. They had the power and the freedom. And she became the sad Carlotta, alone in the great house, walking the streets alone, her clothes becoming old and patched and dirty. And the mad Carlotta, stopping people in the streets to ask, 'Where is my child?' 'Have you seen my child?' ...She died...by her own hand. There are many such stories.
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