For
nearly three weeks she could not take a single one of the
lessons, which were, nevertheless, paid for. Jennings
rebuked her sharply.
``A singer has no right to be sick,'' said he.
``You have a cold yourself,'' retorted she.
``But I am not a singer. I've nothing that interferes
with my work.''
``It's impossible not to take cold,'' said Mildred.
``You are unreasonable with me.''
He shrugged his shoulders. ``Go get well,'' he said.
The sore throat finally yielded to the treatment of
Dr. Hicks, the throat-specialist. His bill was seventy-
five dollars. But while the swelling in the tonsils
subsided it did not depart. She could take lessons again.
Some days she sang as well as ever, and on those days
Jennings was charming. Other days she sang atrociously,
and Jennings treated her as if she were doing
it deliberately. A third and worse state was that of
the days when she in the same half-hour alternately
sang well and badly. On those days Jennings acted
like a lunatic. He raved up and down the studio, all
but swearing at her.
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