``I'll try to find it. But I'm afraid I can't. I
haven't seen it since I showed it to Keith, and when I
hunted for it the other day, it didn't turn up. I've
changed valets several times in the last six months--''
But Mildred had ceased listening. Keith had seen the
picture, had called it a ``give away,'' had been interested
in it--and the picture had disappeared. She
laughed at her own folly, yet she was glad Stanley had
given her this chance to make up a silly day-dream.
She waited until he had exhausted himself on the subject
of valets, their drunkenness, their thievish habits,
their incompetence, then she said:
``I took my last lesson from Jennings to-day.''
``What's the matter? Do you want to change?
You didn't say anything about it? Isn't he good?''
``Good enough. But I've discovered that my voice
isn't reliable, and unless one has a reliable voice there's
no chance for a grand-opera career--or for comic
opera, either.''
Stanley was straightway all agitation and protest.
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