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I was rereading William Dean Howells' Indian Summer, as one does, and in the context of Howells' slashy books this passage struck me.

(I should note that Colville spends most of this book in a love triangle with two women - "the ladies" mentioned at the end of this passage, fellow Americans he has befriended in Florence, and will later take to a masquerade ball that causes much mischief, as masquerade balls are wont to do in 19th-century novels.)

"Colville went experimentally to one of the people's balls at a minor theatre, which he found advertised on the house walls. At half-past ten the dancing had not begun, but the masks were arriving; young women in gay silks and dirty white gloves; men in women's dresses, with enormous hands; girls as pages; clowns, pantaloons, old women, and the like. They were all very good-humoured; the men, who far outnumbered the women, danced contentedly together. Colville liked two cavalry soldiers who waltzed with each other for an hour, and then went off to a battery on exhibition in the pit, and had as much electricity as they could hold. He liked also two young citizens who danced together as long as he stayed, and did not leave off even for electrical refreshment. He came away at midnight, pushing out of the theatre through a crowd of people at the door, some of whom were tipsy. This certainly would not have done for the ladies, though the people were civilly tipsy."
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