Explore "25" by Beverley Nichols on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
One of the most wonderful evenings of my life was when, in the heart of the Australian Bush, Melba sang for me alone.
I ought, if I had a tidy mind, to describe how I got to the Australian Bush, and how so divine a person as Melba should be singing to me at all. But that can come in due course. For the moment I want to recapture that scene as I lived it.