The hour for which, presumably, she had been created was drawing nigh. ” “I say,” she reflected, “you ARE rather the master, you know. And put ‘em in little books for remembrance. ‘Never mind where. This is not what I want. His salvation—if there was to be any—lay in her ignorance of life. Nothing is settled upon. Suddenly remembering Kimble, her heart thudded with excitement. 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. The old aspect of the place was gone. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. It wound around a small manufactured lake. The Magdalene. Though scarcely two hours past midnight, it was perfectly light.
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