e pretended to excuse himself, but in the end remained.

Sowinska ordered the waiter to bring half a bottle of cognac, three
beers and some sandwiches, and, having drained her own glass, she
hastily left them, saying that she had forgotten something in the
dressing-room.

"Halt" shoved his chair nearer to Janina's.

"Hm! . . . you have a voice, miss . . . a very nice voice . . ." he
said and laid his big red paw upon her knee, while with the other he
began to pour some brandy into his beer.

She moved back a little, disgusted.

"You can put on a bold front on the stage. . . . I will help
you . . ." he added, draining his glass at one gulp.

"If you will be so kind, Mr. Director . . ." Janina said, drawing
away from him.

"I will see to it . . . I will take care of you!"

And suddenly he took her about the waist and drew her to him.

Janina shoved him back with such force that he fell sprawling upon
the table, and then ran to the door, ready to cry out.

"Whew! . . . wait a minute . . . you're a fool! . . . stay! . . . I
wanted to take care of you, help you, but since you're such a
blooming fool, go and hang yourself! . . ."

He drank the rest of his cognac and left.

On the veranda sat Cabinski with the stage-manager.

"Has she any kind of a voice?" he inquired of "Halt," for he had
seen Janina entering the room. "A soprano?"

"Ho, ho! something unheard of . . . almost an alto!"

Janina sat for about an hour in that room, unable to control the
indignation and rage that shook her. There were lucid moments when
she would spring up as though ready to rush out and away from those
people, but immediately she would sink down again with a moan.

"Where will I go?" she asked herself, and then added with a sudden
determination. "No, I will stay! . . . I will bear all, if it is
necessary . . . I must! . . . I must!"

Janina became set in her stubborn determination. She collected
within herself all her powers for impending battle with misfortune,
with obstacles, with the whole evil and hostile world and for a
moment, she saw herself on some dizzying height where was fame and
the intoxication of triumph.

Presently Sowinska came in.

"Thank you, for your advice . . . and for leaving me with a
pig! . . ." the girl exclaimed, half weeping.

"I was in a hurry . . . he did not eat you, did he? . . . He's a
good man. . . ."

"Then leave your daughter alone with that good man!" retorted Janina
harshly. "My da