The young officer sat in front, his hat perfectly straight. “It spreads like wildfire. 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. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. “I cannot part with you. I—In fact, I dislike him extremely. Capes? Well, think what it must be to live in them—soul and mind and body! It’s fun for a man to jest at our position. Let me recommend a glass of wine. But one must disguise oneself.
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