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. Ray Plote was most certainly feeling restless, what if he had left the house for the evening? She needed to eat. He became primitive, literal in his conception; the ramifications were, for the nonce, fairly relegated to limbo. And, dragging Mrs. John caught her in the hall around third period.
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