You read nothing about what
she went through in developing a hopelessly uncertain
and far from strong voice into one which, while not
nearly so good as thousands of voices that are tried
and cast aside, yet sufficed, with her will and her
concentration back of it, to carry her to fame--and
wealth.
That birdlike voice! So sweet and spontaneous, so
true, so like the bird that ``sings of summer in full
throated ease!'' No wonder the audience welcomed it
with cheers on cheers. Greater voices they had heard,
but none more natural--and that was Moldini.
He came to her dressing-room at the intermission.
He stretched out his arms, but emotion overcame him,
and he dropped to a chair and sobbed and cried and
laughed. She came and put her arms round him and
kissed him. She was almost calm. The GREAT fear had
seized her--Can I keep what I have won?
``I am a fool,'' cried Moldini. ``I will agitate you.''
``Don't be afraid of that,'' said she. ``I am nerv-
ous, yes, horribly nervous. But you have taught me
so that I could sing, no matter what was happening.
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