I don't say for a moment that he will ever be a Caruso, but as far as he goes--and he goes pretty far, mind--it's really wonderful.

You're coming on Wednesday, aren't you, dear Mrs Ottley?
Ah!'...

She stopped and held up her small beaded fan, 'what's that the band's playing?
I know it so well; everyone knows it; it's either _Pagliacci_ or _Boheme_, or _some_thing.

No, isn't it really?
What is it?
All the old Italian operas are coming in again, by the way, you know, my dear...

_Rigoletto_, _Lucia_, _Traviata_--the _bel canto_--that sort of thing; there's nothing like it for showing off the voice.