But such was the violence of his grief,—such the compunction he exhibited, that all but one looked on with an eye of compassion. “This is MY thing,” said Ann Veronica, softly, with thoughtful eyes upon him. 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. She rose to the fire to stoke it. I want to go to that because it’s a new experience, because I think it will be interesting and give me a view of things. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend.
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