"The girl doesn't appear during the entire opera.

It's a marvellously important advance beyond the tonal and graphic subtleties of Richard Strauss." Other earnest and worthy people consumed intervals of five minutes now and then; a "discuse,"-- whom Neville insisted on calling a "disease,"-- said a coy and rather dirty little French poem directly at her audience, leeringly assisted by an over-sophisticated piano accompaniment.
"If that's modernity it's certainly naked and nervous enough," commented Neville, drily.
"It's--it's perfectly horrid," murmured Valerie, the blush still lingering on cheek and brow.

"I can't understand how intelligent people can even think about such things." "Modernity," repeated Neville.

"Hello; there's Carrillo, the young apostle of Bruant, who makes such a hit with the elect." "How, Kelly ?" "Realism, New York, and the spade business.

He saw a sign on a Bowery clothing store,--'Gents Pants Half Off Today,' and he wrote a poem on it and all Manhattan sat up and welcomed him as a peerless realist; and dear old Dean Williams compared him to Tolstoy and Ed.