faster and put in more sherry. "And where have you
been since twelve o'clock, may I ask?"

Archie looked rather self-conscious, as he sat down on a fragile gilt
chair that rocked under him, and stretched out his long legs. "Well, if
you'll believe me, I had the brutality to go to see her. I wanted to
identify her. Couldn't wait."

Ottenburg placed the cover quickly on the chafing-dish and took a step
backward. "You did, old sport? My word! None but the brave deserve the
fair. Well,"--he stooped to turn the wine,--"and how was she?"

"She seemed rather dazed, and pretty well used up. She seemed
disappointed in herself, and said she hadn't done herself justice in the
balcony scene."

"Well, if she didn't, she's not the first. Beastly stuff to sing right
in there; lies just on the 'break' in the voice." Fred pulled a bottle
out of the ice and drew the cork. Lifting his glass he looked meaningly
at Archie. "You know who, doctor. Here goes!" He drank off his glass
with a sigh of satisfaction. After he had turned the lamp low under the
chafing-dish, he remained standing, looking pensively down at the food
on the table. "Well, she rather pulled it off! As a backer, you're a
winner, Archie. I congratulate you." Fred poured himself another glass.
"Now you must eat something, and so must I. Here, get off that bird cage
and find a steady chair. This stuff ought to be rather good; head
waiter's suggestion. Smells all right." He bent over the chafing-dish
and began to serve the contents. "Perfectly innocuous: mushrooms and
truffles and a little crab-meat. And now, on the level, Archie, how did
it hit you?"

Archie turned a frank smile to his friend and shook his head. "It was
all miles beyond me, of course, but it gave me a pulse. The general
excitement got hold of me, I suppose. I like your wine, Freddy." He put
down his glass. "It goes to the spot to-night. She WAS all right, then?
You weren't disappointed?"

"Disappointed? My dear Archie, that's the high voice we dream of; so
pure and yet so virile and human. That combination hardly ever happens
with sopranos." Ottenburg sat down and turned to the doctor, speaking
calmly and trying to dispel his friend's manifest bewilderment. "You
see, Archie, there's the voice itself, so beautiful and individual, and
then there's something else; the thing in it which responds to every
shade of thought and feeling, spontaneously, almost unconsciously. That
color has to be born in a singer