Sibyl restrained herself visibly--too visibly for the prospects of peace. After some thirty seconds of self-command, she reworded her question mechanically. "The talk about something that was not to be a trial-performance." The forms of the court were complied with, without admission of previous lack of clearness. This was shown in a _parti pris_ of facial immobility. A licked lip, a scratched nose, an eye-blink, would have marred its dramatic force. "You needn't look so stony over it, Sib. There's no mystery of any sort, and I can tell you about it in three words. Alfred Challis is anxious ... what?" "Nothing--go on!" "Mr. Challis is anxious that I should get up enough of Aminta Torrington's part to give Mr. Magnus an idea.... No!--Sibyl. Mr. Magnus is _not_ vulgar, and _I_ think him picturesque. He smokes too many very large cigars perhaps, and they don't improve his complexion. But what objection there can possibly be to diamond shirt-studs...." Sibyl interrupted. "You may just as well tell it all out, Ju. What do you mean by 'enough'?" "What do I mean by enough? Do be intelligible, Dandelion dear!" Judith is patronizing. "I wish you wouldn't call me by that hatefully foolish name. Yes--what do you mean by 'enough'? Does it mean that what Mr. Magnus has heard of what you can do _isn't_ enough? That doesn't mean that he's heard nothing. And you know he hasn't." Sibyl is really no match for her sister in the long run, and perhaps this is a sample of it--of a run long enough for her to get ruffled in. Judith's forbearance becomes exemplary. "Listen while tell I you," she says, imputing impatience, "what Mr. Magnus _has_ heard; and then you can talk about it." "Very well, go on!" snappishly. "The suggestion came from Mr. Magnus. Alfred Challis ... certainly!--it's his name. Don't be absurd.... Alfred Challis may have talked to him--no doubt has--of my fitness for the part. And yesterday between the acts he asked us into his room, and made us read one of the scenes. Of course I was Aminta, and Alfred Challis was Moorsom. It was where they meet for the first time at the oculist's at Vienna, in the waiting-room...." "Is that the kissing scene?" "The kissing scene! Sibyl!--I'm sorry you read that manuscript...." "You shouldn't have left it lying about." "It was in my bedroom, child.... Well!--it certainly wasn't what you choose to call the kissing scene ... but it doesn't matter. I don't believe I should ever be able to make you understand how purely _professional_ it all was. Mr. Magnus sat on the arm of a chair smoking, with his thumbs in his waistcoat, and said that sort of thing wouldn't go down with the public." Judith omitted Mr. Magnus's reason, which was that it wasn't half "schick" enough, thick enough; for it wasn't clear which he said, as his tongue interfered with his articulation.