Reginald "Turnip" Fitzhugh was not a man who enjoyed the opera. He was fond of opera singers in his youth, but onstage they sang in languages he didn't understand. Lady Henrietta had once explained to him that the music expressed more than the words did, but he wasn't able to wrap his mind around the concept. Funny expression, that. You couldn't wrap a mind around a thing.
Mrs. Arabella Fitzhugh, however, and not of the ton, and had never been to the opera before. And if his lady wanted to try it, to the opera Turnip went.
Arabella confessed she was surprised by how many people paid little or no attention to the performance. "But then they have seen it before," she said. Turnip didn't mind the custom of making conversation, since without it he was in danger of falling asleep. Being quick-minded, she realized he was bored and told him that if she returned to the opera, she was happy to go alone.
What demmed fine luck fate had crossed their paths! No, fate had made their paths cross. Ah, who cared about phrasing, when you lived in bliss with a clever and beautiful wife!