He was making you, you know. You've
admitted it.''
``There's no doubt about that,'' said Mildred.
``Mind you, I'm not excusing him. I'm simply
explaining him. If your voice had been all right--if
you could have stood to any degree the test he put you
to, the test of standing alone--you'd have defeated
him. He wouldn't have dared go on. He's too shrewd
to think a real talent can be beaten.''
The strong lines, the latent character, in Mildred's
face were so strongly in evidence that looking at her
then no one would have thought of her beauty or even
of her sex, but only of the force that resists all and
overcomes all. ``Yes--the voice,'' said she. ``The voice.''
``If it's ever reliable, come to see me. Until then--''
He put out his hand. When she gave him hers, he held
it in a way that gave her no impulse to draw back.
``You know the conditions of success now. You must
prepare to meet them. If you put yourself at the mercy
of the Ransdells--or any other of the petty intriguers
that beset every avenue of success--you must take the
consequences, you must conciliate them as best you can.
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