Burrage's card was a very good answer. Such a missive
deserved a rejoinder, and it was by way of rejoinder that he entered the
street car which, on the evening of March 26th, was to deposit him at a
corner adjacent to Mrs. Burrage's dwelling. He almost never went to
evening parties (he knew scarcely any one who gave them, though Mrs.
Luna had broken him in a little), and he was sure this occasion was of
festive intention, would have nothing in common with the nocturnal
"exercises" at Miss Birdseye's; but he would have exposed himself to
almost any social discomfort in order to see Verena Tarrant on the
platform. The platform it evidently was to be--private if not
public--since one was admitted by a ticket given away if not sold. He
took his in his pocket, quite ready to present it at the door. It would
take some time for me to explain the contradiction to the reader; but
Basil Ransom's desire to be present at one of Verena's regular
performances was not diminished by the fact that he detested her views
and thought the whole business a poor perversity. He understood her now
very well (since his visit to Cambridge); he saw she was honest and
natural; she had queer, bad lecture-blood in her veins, and a comically
false idea of the aptitude of little girls for conducting movements; but
her enthusiasm was of the purest, her illusions had a fragrance, and so
far as the mania for producing herself personally was concerned, it had
been distilled into her by people who worked her for ends which to Basil
Ransom could only appear insane.
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