Newland Archer's Daisy Song

Newland archer sat at the back of the club box. Directly facing him was the box of old missus manson mingott, whose obesity had long since made it impossible for her to attend the opera. He contemplated her absorbed young face with a thrill of possessorship. His pride an his own masculine initiation was mingled with a tender reverence for her abysmal purity. It was only that afternoon that may well have she cared new manly phrase of maidenowal. Newland archer did not in the least wish the future missus newland Archer to be a simpleton. But thanks to his enlightening companionship, he meant her nothing but good fortune.