"In the theater? . . . yes! . . . I journeyed here for that very purpose." "From whence?" asked the elderly woman abruptly. "From home," answered Janina, but more quietly and with a certain hesitation. "Ah . . . I see . . . you are entirely new to the profession! . . . Well, well! that is curious! . . ." "Why? . . . why should it be so strange for one who loves the theater to try to join it? . . ." "Oh, that's what all of them say! . . . while in truth, each of them runs away either from something . . . or for something. . . ." Janina was conscious of an accent of hidden malice in her voice. "Do you know, madam, how soon the musical director will arrive?" she asked. "I don't!" snapped back the elderly woman, and walked away. Janina moved back a little, for just then the workmen were spreading a huge waxed canvas over the stage. She was gazing at this absent-mindedly, when the elderly woman reappeared and addressed her in a milder tone, "I will give you a piece of advice, miss. . . . It is necessary for you to win over the musical director." "But how am I to do it?" "Have you money?" "I have, but--" "If you will listen to me, I will advise you." "Certainly." "You must get him a little drunk, then the rehearsal will come off splendidly." Janina glanced at her in amazement. "Ha! ha!" laughed the other quietly. "Ha! ha! she is a real moon-calf!" After a moment she whispered, "Let us go to the dressing-room. I will enlighten you a little . . ." She pulled Janina after her, and afterwards, busying herself with pinning a dress on a mannikin, she remarked, "We must get acquainted." "Tell me, madam, how about that musical director?" asked Janina. "It's necessary to buy him some cognac. Yes!" she added after a moment, "Cognac, beer, and sandwiches will, perhaps, be sufficient." "How much would that cost?" "I think that for three rubles you can give him a decent treat. Let me have the money and I will order everything for you. I had better go right away." Janina gave her the money. Sowinska left and in about a quarter of an hour returned, breathless. "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?"