‘Don’t fob me off, boy. 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. ‘You must think me a fool, mademoiselle. It’s so different from what one has been led to expect. I'll knock off at tea. An acute sense of living was in her veins, even the taste of her wine seemed magical. “Indeed,” she said, “I would not. ‘En tout cas, it is not reasonable that I could be at all in love with him. " "Well said, Jack," cried Figg.
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