Титан

Airs from the Orient

           "Didyoueverstudyart?"heasked.

           "No."

           "Andyouneverstudiedacting?"

           "No."

           Sheshookherheadinaslow,sad,enticingway.Theblackhairconcealingherearsmovedhimstrangely.

           "Iknowtheartofyourstageworkisreal,andyouhaveanaturalartwhichIjustseemtosee.Whathasbeenthematterwithme,anyhow?"

           "Ohno,"shesighed."ItseemstomethatImerelyplayateverything.IcouldcrysometimeswhenIthinkhowIgoon."

           "Attwenty?"

           "Thatisoldenough,"shesmiled,archly.

           "Stephanie,"heasked,cautiously,"howoldareyou,exactly?"

           "Iwillbetwenty-oneinApril,"sheanswered.

           "Haveyourparentsbeenverystrictwithyou?"

           Sheshookherheaddreamily."No;whatmakesyouask?Theyhaven’tpaidverymuchattentiontome.They’vealwayslikedLucilleandGilbertandOrmondbest."Hervoicehadaplaintive,neglectedring.Itwasthevoicesheusedinherbestscenesonthestage.

           "Don’ttheyrealizethatyouareverytalented?"

           "IthinkperhapsmymotherfeelsthatImayhavesomeability.Myfatherdoesn’t,I’msure.Why?"

           Sheliftedthoselanguorous,plaintiveeyes.

           "Why,Stephanie,ifyouwanttoknow,Ithinkyou’rewonderful.Ithoughtsotheothernightwhenyouwerelookingatthosejades.Itallcameoverme

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Roboto Lora
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