Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. 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 the next box hangs the rope by which he suffered. They were at the corner of Pall Mall now, and had come to a standstill. ‘Jacques?’ she called.
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