Pshaw, just the sort of a husband that she deserved! "How she looks at me!" said Josephine.
I felt myself blush, so to speak, from head to foot.
"Good Heavens! my dear girl," I exclaimed, "take your elbows off the front of the box!" Josephine complied, with a pettish little grimace.
"And, for mercy's sake, don't hold your head as if you feared it would tumble off!" "It is the flowers," said she.

"They tickle the back of my neck, whenever I move my head.

I am much more comfortable in my cap." "Never mind.

Make the best of it, and listen to this song." It was the great tenor ballad of the evening.

The house was profoundly silent; the first wandering chords of a harp were heard behind the scenes; and Duprez began.