"The reason was what I told you—lack of money," replied she. "I did not go into the reason why I lacked money. Why should I when, even on my worst days, I could get through all my part in a musical comedy—except songs that could be cut down or cut out? If I could have made good at acting, would you have given me up on account of my voice?"
"Not if you had been good enough," he admitted.
"Then I did not get my engagement on false pretenses?"
"No. You are right. Still, your fall-down as a singer is the important fact. Don't lose sight of it."
"I shan't," said she tersely.
His eyes were frankly laughing. "As to Ransdell—what a clever trick! He's a remarkable man. If he weren't so shrewd in those little ways, he might have been a great man. Same old story—just a little too smart, and so always doing the little thing and missing the big thing. Yes, he went gunning for you—and got you." He dropped into his chair. He thought a moment, laughed aloud, went on: "No doubt he has worked that same trick many a time. I've suspected it once or twice, but this time he fooled me. He got you, Miss Gower, and I can do nothing. You must see that I can't look after details. And I can't give up as invaluable a man as Ransdell. If I put you back, he'd put you out—would make the piece fail rather than let you succeed."
Mildred was gazing somberly at the floor.
"It's hard lines—devilish hard lines," he went on sympathetically. "But what can I do?"
"What can I do?" said Mildred.
"Do as all people do who succeed—meet the conditions."