‘She?’ ‘Damnation!’ He saw her frown, and added at once, ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. Courtlaw rose to his feet. It did not occur to her that save for some accidents of education and character they had souls like her own. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. I don’t care WHAT happens.
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