Kneebone and his friends would be glad of a little refreshment. 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. He was always drawing contrasts between a woman’s lot and a man’s, and treating her as a wonderful new departure in this comparison. ’—he’s frightfully anti-Mendelian—having it all their own way. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson.
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