‘As I have said, it was a quarrel between the vicomte and Monsieur Charvill. 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. Glancing at each other, they rose from their seats and ventured to address the captain. She kissed him with a closed mouth, not as recklessly as she was tempted to do. He was beginning to think about her inordinately. Fear nothing. “And children must we women bear— “Oh, damn!” she cried, as the hundred-and-first couplet or so presented itself in her unwilling brain.
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