If he was well enough he was to read them something absolutely fresh, and it was on that particular prospect the Princess had set her heart.

She was so fond of genius in _any_ walk of life, and was so used to it and understood it so well: she was the greatest of Mr.
Paraday's admirers, she devoured everything he wrote.

And then he read like an angel.

Mrs.Wimbush reminded me that he had again and again given her, Mrs.Wimbush, the privilege of listening to him.
I looked at her a moment.

"What has he read to you ?" I crudely enquired.
For a moment too she met my eyes, and for the fraction of a moment she hesitated and coloured.