"Are you sorry to be leaving your friends in London?"

What I might have said if he had made that inquiry a day earlier,
when I was the most miserable creature living, I would rather not
try to guess. Being quite happy as things were, I could honestly
tell him I was sorry.

"You can't possibly be as sorry as I am, Eunice. May I call you
by your pretty name?"

"Yes, if you please."

"Eunice!"

"Yes."

"You will leave a blank in my life when you go away--"

There another chorus stopped him, just as I was eager for more.
It was such a delightfully new sensation to hear a young
gentleman telling me that I had left a blank in his life.
The next change in the Oratorio brought up a young lady, singing
alone. Some people behind us grumbled at the smallness of her
voice. We thought her voice perfect. It seemed to lend itself
so nicely to our whispers.

He said: "Will you help me to think of you while you are away?
I want to imagine what your life is at home. Do you live in
a town or in the country?"