She was aware of him—a silk-hatted, shiny-black figure on the opposite side of the Avenue; and then, abruptly and startlingly, he crossed the road and saluted and spoke to her. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. Running to Gosse, she seized the portrait from his hand and lashed out, taking him off guard, so that he staggered back and fell against the card table. “You could have told me about it, Michelle. There’s a hansom coming round the corner. The veranda bamboo will be enough for me.
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