“He asked me whether I would like to go upon the stage. What do you think about it, Leonard?”
Tavernake, for some reason or other, was displeased.
“Would you earn much more money than by singing at these dinners?” he asked.
“Very, very much more,” she assured him.
“And you would like the life?”
She laughed softly.
“Why not? It isn't so bad. I was on the stage in New York for some time under much worse conditions.”
He remained silent for a few minutes. They had made their way into the street now and were waiting for an omnibus.
“What did you tell him?” he asked, abruptly.
She was looking down toward the Embankment, her eyes filled once more with the things which he could not understand.