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 she struck key twenty-seven, if fifty-three, key fifty-three, and so on, perfectly indifferent to the noise around her, or the sound of other pianos in the adjoining saloons, and her equanimity was not even disturbed when some disagreeable little children thumped with their fists on the unoccupied keys.

Whilst this concert was going on, a bystander would carelessly take up one of the books scattered here and there on the tables, and, having found an interesting passage, would read it aloud, whilst his audience listened good-humouredly, and complimented him with a flattering murmur of applause. Newspapers were scattered on the sofas, generally American and English, which always look old, although the pages have never been cut; it is a very tiresome operation reading these great sheets, which take up so much room, but the fashion being to leave them uncut, so they remain. One day I had the patience to read the New York Herald from beginning to end under these circumstances, and judge if I was rewarded for my trouble when I turned to the column headed "Private:" "M. X. begs the pretty Miss Z, whom he met yesterday in Twenty-fifth Street omnibus, to come to him tomorrow, at his rooms, No. 17, St. Nicholas Hotel; he wishes to speak of marriage with her." What did the pretty Miss Z do? I don't even care to know.

I passed the whole of the afternoon in the grand saloon