’ Mrs Sindlesham shook with laughter. He found his youngest daughter intrusive in his thoughts all through the morning, and still more so in the afternoon. He knew very well that his muscles were flabby, and his nerve by no means what it should be. Something as yet unformulated within her kept her estranged from all these practical aspects of her beliefs. 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. In a moment they were in the street outside.
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