The following morning found him in the doctor's waiting room, a black cigar turning unlighted in his teeth. However, not a moment is to be lost. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. "I was about to add," continued Gay, "that my opera shall have no music except the good old ballad tunes. And for Suzanne and the vicomte, I am nothing.
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