He had heard the opera many times, but it had never seemed so fine before, perhaps because he had never happened to have had an ingenuous young face so near him in which the varying emotions born of the music, and the romance it portrayed, came and went so eloquently that it was impossible to help reading them.

Polly did not know that this was why he leaned down so often to speak to her, with an expression which she did not understand but liked very much nevertheless.
"Don't shut your eyes, Polly.

They are so full of mischief to-night, I like to see them," said Tom, after idly wondering for a minute if she knew how long and curly her lashes were.
"I don't wish to look affected, but the music tells the story so much better than the acting that I don't care to look on half the time," answered Polly, hoping Tom would n't see the tears she had so cleverly suppressed.
"Now I like the acting best.

The music is all very fine, I know, but it does seem so absurd for people to go round telling tremendous secrets at the top of their voices.

I can't get used to it." "That 's because you 've more common-sense than romance.