Something unpardonable is laid to my charge. ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. “Where should we go?” Knowing that they would be dogged wherever they went, she volunteered, “Let’s go to the Big Apple. She turned out the electric light and gained the hall. 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. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. “How dared you do yourself this injustice?” “I did it for her sake,” she answered. .
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