''
``You ARE started,'' said he, with an amiable smile.
``Keep on. But I doubt if you'll be so well amused as
you may imagine. Going to the devil isn't as it's
painted in novels by homely old maids and by men too
timid to go out of nights. A few steps farther, and
your disillusionment will begin. But there'll be no
turning back. Already, you are almost too old to make
a career.''
``I'm only twenty-four. I flattered myself I looked
still younger.''
``It's worse than I thought,'' said he. ``Most of
the singers, even the second-rate ones, began at fifteen--
began seriously. And you haven't begun yet.''
``That's unjust,'' she protested. ``I've done a little.
Many great people would think it a great deal.''
``You haven't begun yet,'' repeated he calmly. ``You
have spent a lot of money, and have done a lot of
dreaming and talking and listening to compliments,
and have taken a lot of lessons of an expensive
charlatan. But what have those things to do with a
career?''
``You've never heard me sing.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333