“You can’t tell till you try,” said Kendall, colloquially.
“I should like for hear mademoiselle recite one day. Mademoiselle studies Racine?”
“Already I know many parts,” said Andree.
“That is well. Some day you and Capitaine Ware shall come and you shall recite for me, n’est-ce pas?”
“Oui, monsieur,” she said, primly.
“There is but one way to enter into the stage,” he continued. “It is the Conservatoire. Then, if one make the success, there is the Comédie Française.... But it is not easy to enter into the Conservatoire.”
“Mais non.... It is ver’ difficult,” she said, despairingly.
“Ah.... But if some one speak for you? Then it ees not the same—it ees differen’.... But we shall see. Capitaine Ware ees my frien’. I would oblige him. Also I would oblige mademoiselle.” He looked at her rather intently. “We shall see.”
The roast chicken arrived, surrounded by cress and swimming in a delicious sauce. Conversation languished. From time to time Kendall turned to look at Andree, for it always delighted him to see her eat, she was so intent about it. She went about it as if eating were an intricate problem requiring concentration.... And presently they fell to chatting in fragmentary fashion, Andree translating for both Kendall and Monsieur Robert, and it was very jolly and pleasant.... Kendall did not notice how often the young actor glanced at Andree....
Presently they were through and monsieur was compelled to hurry away because he had a part in the piece that was playing that evening. “I mus’ see you ver’ soon,” he said to them both, but with his eyes intently upon Andree’s—which dropped before his gaze. “I mus’ hear mademoiselle recite.”