Explore "Head and Shoulders" by F. Scott Fitzgerald on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
He was there again. She saw him when she took her first glance at the restless Manhattan audience -- down in the front row with his head bent a bit forward and his gray eyes fixed on her. And she knew that to him they were alone together in a world where the high-rouged row of ballet faces and the massed whines of the violins were as imperceivable as powder on a marble Venus. An instinctive defiance rose within her.
"Silly boy! " she said to herself hurriedly, and she didn't take her encore.