"Of course. But what has that to do with the opera?"
"Did you ever read that story of his about a painter who was always striving to attain perfection, could never let a picture alone, was for ever adding new touches, painting details out and other details in? One day he called in his friends to see his masterpiece. When they came they found a mere mess of paint representing nothing."
"Well?" said Claude, rather stiffly.
"You've got a splendid talent. I hope you're going to trust it."
Claude said nothing, and Alston, in his easy, almost boyish way, glanced off to some other topic. But before he started for England he said to Charmian:
"Do watch him a bit if you can, Mrs. Charmian, for over-elaboration. Don't let him work it to death, I mean, till all the spontaneity is gone. I believe that's a danger with him. Somehow I think he lacks complete confidence in himself."
"You see it's the first time he has ever tried to do an opera."
"I know. It's natural enough. But do watch out for over-elaboration."
"I'll try to. But I have to be very careful with Claude."
"How d'you mean exactly?"