At present they are barbarous, and I have a decided preference for civilisation.

So have you, I am quite sure.' Rolfe murmured his assent; whereupon Sibyl rose, just bent her head to him, and moved with graceful indolence away.
'Now she hates _me_,' Harvey said in his mind; 'and much I care!' As a matter of courtesy, he thought it well to move in Miss Frothingham's direction.

The crowd was thinning; without difficulty he approached to within a few yards of her, and there exchanged a word or two with the player of the viola, Miss Leach--a good, ingenuous creature, he had always thought; dangerous to no man's peace, but rather sentimental, and on that account to be avoided.

Whilst talking, he heard a man's voice behind him, pretentious, coarse, laying down the law in a musical discussion.
'No, no; Beethoven is not _Klaviermaszig_.

His thoughts ate symphonic--they need the orchestra....