Madame De Rosa knew that this also was an excellent sign; she looked at Margaret and nodded energetically. Whatever Schreiermeyer might mean by returning devout thanks to his Maker at that moment, the retired singer was perfectly sure that he knew his business. He was probably in need of a lyric soprano for the next season, and that might lead to an immediate engagement for Margaret.
'How hot it is!' the latter complained, in an undertone. 'There is no air at all here!'
The maids were mopping their faces with their handkerchiefs, and Madame De Rosa's fan was positively whirring. Schreiermeyer seemed quite indifferent to the temperature.
He must nevertheless have been reflecting on Margaret's last remark when he slowly turned to her after a silence of nearly a minute.
'Have you a good action of the heart?' he inquired, precisely as a doctor might have done.
'I don't know.' Margaret smiled. 'I don't know anything about my heart.'
'Then it is good,' said the manager. 'It ought to be, for you have a magnificent skin. Do you eat well and sleep well, always?'
'Perfectly. May I ask if you are a doctor?'
Madame De Rosa made furious signs to Margaret. A very faint smile flitted over the manager's quiet face.
'Some people call me an executioner,' he answered, 'because I kill the weak ones.'