"Well, everything is settled! Come along, miss, the director is waiting."
Behind the restaurant hall there was a room with a piano. "Halt," flushed and sleepy, was already waiting there.
"Cabinski spoke to me about you, miss!" he began. "What can you sing? . . . Whew! how warm I feel! . . . Perhaps you will raise the window?" he said, turning to Sowinska.
Janina felt disturbed by his hoarse voice and his inflamed, drunken face, but she sat down to the piano, wondering what she should select to sing.
"Ah! you also play, miss? . . ." he queried in great surprise.
"Yes," she answered, and began playing the introduction to some song, without seeing the signs that Sowinska was making to her.
"Please sing something for me," he said, "I want to hear only your voice. . . . Or perhaps you could sing some solo part?"
"Mr. Director . . . I feel that I have a calling for the drama, or even for the comedy, but never for the opera."
"But we are not talking about the opera . . ."
"About what, then?"