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. "I haven't quite recovered the fright I got in the Vell-Hole," replied Abraham. “But your hair,” he gasped. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. I shall lose my fees and the laced coat. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door.
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