IaskedherwhethershehadeverheardanyoftheWagnerianoperasandfoundthatshehadnot，thoughshewasperfectlyfamiliarwiththeirrespectivesituations，andhadoncepossessedthepianoscoreofTheFlyingDutchman。IbegantothinkitwouldhavebeenbesttogetherbacktoRedWillowCountywithoutwakingher，andregrettedhavingsuggestedtheconcert。
Fromthetimeweenteredtheconcerthall，however，shewasatriflelesspassiveandinert，andforthefirsttimeseemedtoperceivehersurroundings。Ihadfeltsometrepidationlestshemightbecomeawareoftheabsurditiesofherattire，ormightexperiencesomepainfulembarrassmentatsteppingsuddenlyintotheworldtowhichshehadbeendeadforaquarterofacentury。
But，again，IfoundhowsuperficiallyIhadjudgedher。Shesatlookingaboutherwitheyesasimpersonal，almostasstony，asthosewithwhichthegraniteRamesesinamuseumwatchesthefrothandfretthatebbsandflowsabouthispedestal-separatedfromitbythelonelystretchofcenturies。IhaveseenthissamealoofnessinoldminerswhodriftintotheBrownHotelatDenver，theirpocketsfullofbullion，theirlinensoiled，theirhaggardfacesunshaven；standinginthethrongedcorridorsassolitaryasthoughtheywerestillinafrozencampontheYukon，consciousthatcertainexperienceshaveisolatedthemfromtheirfellowsbyagulfnohaberdashercouldbridge。
Wesatattheextremeleftofthefirstbalcony，facingthearcofourownandthebalconyaboveus，veritablehanginggardens，brilliantastulipbeds。Thematineeaudiencewasmadeupchieflyofwomen。Onelostthecontouroffacesandfigures——
indeed，anyeffectoflinewhatever-andtherewasonlythecolorofbodicespastcounting，theshimmeroffabricssoftandfirm，silkyandsheer:red，mauve，pink，blue，lilac，purple，ecru，rose，yellow，cream，andwhite，allthecolorsthatanimpressionistfindsinasunlitlandscape，withhereandtherethedeadshadowofafrockcoat。MyAuntGeorgianaregardedthemasthoughtheyhadbeensomanydaubsoftube-paintonapalette。