The house was crowded to the doors; there was no longer any standing room and many were even sitting on the steps of the aisles.

In the boxes the gentlemen were standing up behind the chairs of large plain ladies in showy toilets and diamonds.

The atmosphere was heavy with the smell of gas, of plush upholstery, of wilting bouquets and of sachet.

A fine vapour as of the visible exhalation of many breaths pervaded the house, blurring the lowered lights and dimming the splendour of the great glass chandelier.
It was warm to suffocation, a dry, irritating warmth that perspiration did not relieve, while the air itself was stale and close as though fouled by being breathed over and over again.

In the topmost galleries, banked with tiers of watching faces, the heat must have been unbearable.
The only movement perceptible throughout the audience was the little swaying of gay-coloured fans like the balancing of butterflies about to light.