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Updated: May 21, 2025
I had the price why shouldn't I go?" he demanded brusquely; and with another sardonic laugh the real motive came out, "I wanted to see what you folks who go to the opery see how you enjoy yourselves. Well, the opery ain't so bad it ain't one bit bad," and he attempted to hum the Rheingold music.
SHE'S got the things them opery women wears; this yer contains the HE things, the duds and fixin's o' the men o' the same stripe." Throwing it open he continued: "Now, Mr. Renshaw, gals is gals; it's nat'ral they should be took by fancy dress and store clothes on young chaps as on theirselves.
He needn't tell ME he expects to get even on what he spent on that Opery House Block out of what he'll make on it; he just built it to make a show, so some dumb idiot like Sally Briggs would think he amounted to more than others, and marry him." The Colonel brought down his hand with a bang on the attorney's table. "What kind of an idiot did you call Miss Briggs?" asked Toole pleasantly.
He paused a moment, and then, as a new idea seemed to be painfully borne in his round eyes, continued cautiously: "Was that the reason why you wouldn't touch any of them dresses from the trunks of that opery gal ez skedaddled for Sacramento? And yet them trunks I regularly bought at auction Rosey at auction, on spec and they didn't realize the cost of drayage."
They ain't no crowd ever sat at the Opery House that'll stand for it. Just because she's a actress is no reason you can publicly lambaste her with hen-fruit." For the moment it seemed that Wild Water was going to burst or have apoplexy. He gulped down a mouthful of scalding coffee and slowly recovered himself. "You're in wrong, Shorty," he said with cold deliberation.
Sorry to quit you cold, but I got to traipse down to the Opery House and collect my taxes, sugar. Miss Frona'll tell you." "You are a surprise, Mr. St. Vincent." Frona switched back to the point of interest, after briefly relating Harney's saccharine difficulties. "The country must indeed have been a wilderness nine years ago, and to think that you went through it at that early day!
It's very quiet: there are few sounds, and those few most familiar: the raucous war-cry of a rooster somewhere on the outskirts of town; an intermittent thudding of hoofs in the inch-deep dust of the roadway; Miles Stetson wringing faint but genuine shrieks of agony from his cornet, in a room behind the Opery House on the next street; periodically a shuffle of feet on the sidewalk below; less frequently the whine of the swinging doors at Schwartz's place; above it all, perhaps, the shrill but not unpleasant accents of Angie Tuthill as she pauses on the threshold downstairs and injects surprising information into the nothing-reluctant ears of Mame Garrison.
"It costs more 'n two dollars to go to the opery in San Francisco." "Did you go to the opera?" Adelle asked, recalling that Archie had said something about the current engagement of the New York Opera company. They had a box or something for the season they always did. "What did they give?" "Oh, it was some German piece.
What does he mean, sendin' Miss Sally porterhouses, when she only orders flank steak, like he was wrappin' up love and affection into every steak? He's got mighty proud since he set out to build that there Kilo Opery House of his. He's a fool to spend money on an opery house in this town. He's a beefy, puffy old money bag, he is.
"Been spendin' Saturday nights and Sundays out of town for a spell, hain't you? Seems like I hain't seen you around." "Been takin' the 'three-o'clock' down the line," said Ovid, complacently. "Girl?" said Scattergood one might have noticed that it was hopefully. "Naw.... Fellers. We go to the opery Saturday nights and kind of amuse ourselves Sundays." "Um!... G'-by, Ovid." "Good-by, Mr. Baines."
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