For the first time in her life she had heard music; the door to enchanted sounds had been flung wide. They would arrive sometime in June. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. O'Higgins wandered into this street and that, studying the signs and resenting the Britisher's wariness in using too much tin and paint. His shirt was unfastened, his vest unbuttoned, his hose ungartered; his feet were stuck into a pair of pantoufles, his arms into a greasy flannel dressing-gown, his head into a thrum-cap, the cap into a tie-periwig, and the wig into a gold-edged hat. ’ ‘You mean I need not have said it? Damnation.
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