‘Oh, peste,’ she cried out in distressed tones. She had never been to the opera before except as one of a congested mass of people in the cheaper seats, and with backs and heads and women’s hats for the frame of the spectacle; there was by contrast a fine large sense of space and ease in her present position. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. It saved me the bother of being studied.
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