A head-piece of colored stones barely touched her brow when, with a contemptuous "Bah! too Egyptian" it was returned to the drawer.

The costumers stood looking at each other, silently. Thrall waited; he wanted them to propose pearls themselves, and thus avoid a wrangle, for they did not accept suggestions willingly. Then, suddenly, Nonna Angelique said: "Let me hear the voice, Mr. Thrall. Give her a cue; let me know whether her voice matches the mobilité of her face. That may give me my idée!"

Sybil gave a frightened, deprecating, "Oh, Mr. Thrall!"

But he answered with: "Steady! steady!" then added: "Give her 'Wherefore art thou Romeo?'"

She looked at him with dilating eyes, then clasped her hands, and gazing into space, obediently began:

"Oh, Romeo! Romeo! wherefore art thou, Romeo?
Deny thy father and refuse thy name—
Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn—my—love!
And [with a rush] I'll no longer be a Capulet!"

Nonna Angelique caught the girl's face between her hands and kissed her soundingly. It had been an unexpected test, and Thrall, pleased at her courage and obedience, was simply delighted with the effect she got from that pause, as if at her own temerity in using the words:

"... be but sworn—my love!"

and then the reckless dash of the declaration:

"... I'll no longer be a Capulet!"