The fact that Sybil's reasoning had been so good made it all the harder for Thrall to explain his laughter. Few men understood the eternal feminine better than he did; and when the young girl, with innocent, instinctive knowledge, was speaking of a "passion" as distinct from "love," her glance met his as straightly, as frankly, as if she had been a boy. And suddenly there came to him the memory of a little child he had once seen playing, ignorantly happy, with his mother's scissors and his father's knife, and he laughed aloud in spite of himself, for he knew well that the girl was clashing together her terms of "love" and "passion" with just as much real knowledge as the baby had had of the scissors and the knife. And when he saw the angry tears shining in her eyes he could have kissed them away with as pure tenderness as if she had been that baby's self. And all the time the managerial side of his brain, so to speak, was receiving impressions and was trying to get the attention of the man's whole mind; and presently, through the smallest of incidents, it succeeded. While Thrall was trying to reassure Sybil and convince her that he had meant no mockery by his laughter, she sat with down-bent face, hiding her mortifying tears. He noted the hair, dark clouding over the straight, black brows, the outward thrust of the sullen, red lip that made and kept the whole face mutinous, when a quick glint came to the averted eyes, a lift to the brows, a tremor to the lips that suddenly parted, curling like petals into the most delicious smile ever made for man's undoing. Old Poll, sidling into view and waddling across the floor in search of mischief, had caused the swift change of expression, and the expression had brought the stage-manager to the front with a bound. "Great Shakspere!" said Thrall to himself; "what a face for the balcony scene! The sweetness--the positive radiance--the lovely outline of the down-bent face! I've half a mind--I--why, the girl has just shown she has brains, whether her ideas of Desdemona are right or wrong; it proves that she can think for herself! And--and if to her beauty, youth, and brains you can add good family, and to them all the subtle, intangible thing we call charm--what do all these things mean to a manager? Why, unless he's a dolt, a blind bat, they mean a find, a discovery, a future card of great commercial value! Dear Lord! if I only knew whether she could walk across the stage without going to pieces, whether the sight of the audience would give her a palsy!" He had come there intending to tell her that she was to have a part of eight lines in the opening play of the New York season--but now, but now! New ideas were rushing through his mind. If only she had a little training! All at once--apropos of nothing, he asked: "Miss Lawton, do you dance?" She raised her eyes in unspeakable surprise. His face brightened; he went on rising as he spoke: "Do you waltz?"