The floor around Mr. Sluys's chair was strewn with wadded scraps. Eliza would have loved to smooth some out and read them, but his hard jollity, and the way he was pouring champagne, told her that the evening's trading was going well for him, or so he imagined. 'Jews don't go to the Opera – it is against their religion! What a show de la Vega has missed tonight!'