She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother. “I confess it. They were drenched with water and suds. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. There was a gallows erected, and a great mob round it—thousands of people, and all with white faces like corpses. 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.
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