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After a while one began to talk. She stared down at them from a high window, peering down at their moonlit faces in the bed heavy with furs, the same bed where she had given birth to Gianfrancesco’s dead son. The manager tells me that you are an American. The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. ’ ‘I have English a little,’ the girl offered, her voice shaking as she essayed a smile and sank into a curtsy. Men are against her. ” She picked at her sandwich idly. ” He laughed. I should require you to accept no employment whatever upon the stage, and to remain out of England. And look, again, at the women one finds letting lodgings. ” “I don’t care.

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