She faced him flushed and menacing, and he took her hand and said:
"You'll get it. Where's your telephone!"
"Right there in the hall!"
"I'll call up Dwight."
"Wait! Is he married?"
"No."
"Thank God!"
CHAPTER XVIII
The next morning at eleven o'clock she met Dwight in his studio, and in a brisk pleasant businesslike way she began to tell him of her voice—what singing she had done at home and how she had always meant to take lessons when she should come to New York to live.
"To find out how much of a voice I really have, you know," she said. Her manner was more affable now. "But my husband and my baby have kept me rather busy, you see, and so I've put it off and off—until just lately I began to look about and make inquiries. And then by good luck I learned of you—from my husband's partner."