"He can be very reserved."
"Yes, but you know how to take him. And—well—we can't let the opera be anything but a big success, can we?"
If Claude had heard that "we!"
"I say, shall we walk around the garden?" Alston added, after a pause. "It isn't quite time to go, and I want to talk over things before Claude comes down to see the last of me."
"Yes, yes."
They went out, and descended the steps from the terrace.
"I wanted to tell you, Mrs. Charmian, that I'm going to bring Crayford over whatever happens, whether the opera's done or not. There's heaps ready for him to judge by. And you must read him the libretto."
"I?" exclaimed Charmian, startled.
"Yes, you. Study it up! Recite it to yourself. Learn to give it all and more than its value. That libretto is going to catch hold of Crayford right away, if you read it, and read it well."
When she had recovered from her first shock of surprise Charmian felt radiantly happy. She had something to do. Alston, with his shrewd outlook, was bringing her a step farther into this enterprise. He was right. She remembered Crayford. A woman should read him the libretto, and in a décor—swiftly her imagination began to work. The décor should be perfection; and her gown!