She could sing--not well now, because her voice had suffered--but still she sang true. She had a musical ear. She could accompany anyone on the piano, _pas trop mal_. She could dance. Oh, to that she owed her first engagement. She had also learned to play the castagnettes and the tambourine, _à l'Espagnole_. And she was accustomed to discipline.... As she proceeded with the unexciting catalogue of her accomplishments she lost self-control, and her eyes burned and her lips quivered and her voice shook in unison with the beatings of a desperately anxious heart. Our Andrew, although an artist dead set on perfection and a shrewd man of business, was young, pitiful and generous. The pleading dog's look in Elodie's eyes was too much for him. He felt powerless to resist. His brain worked swiftly, devising all kinds of artistic possibilities. Besides, was not Fate accomplishing itself by presenting this solution of both their difficulties? "I wonder whether you would care to try the experiment?" With an effort of feminine duplicity she put on a puzzled and ingenuous expression. "What experiment?" He was somewhat taken aback: surely he must have misinterpreted her pleading. From the dispenser of fortune, he became the seeker of favours. "I know it's not much of a position to offer you," said he, almost apologetically, "but if you care to accept it----" "Of your assistant?" she asked, as though the idea had never entered her head. "Why, yes. If you will consent to a month of very hard work. You would have to learn a little elementary juggling. You would have to give me instantaneous replies in act and speech. But if you would give yourself up to me I could teach you." "But, _mon pauvre André_," she said, with an astonished air, "this is the last thing I ever dreamed of. I am so ignorant. I should put you to shame." "Oh no, you wouldn't," said he, confidently. "I know my business. Wait. _Les affaires sont les affaires_. I should have to give you a little contract. Let us see. For the remainder of my tour--ten weeks--ten francs a day with hotel _en pension_ and railway fares." To Elodie, independent waif in theatre-land, this was wealth beyond her dreams. She stretched both hands across the table. "Do you mean that? It is true? And, if I please you, you will keep me always?" "Why not?" said Andrew. "And, if you show talent, we may come to a better arrangement for the next tour." "And if I show no talent at all?" He made a deprecating gesture and grinned in his charming way. But Elodie's intuition taught her that there was the stern purpose of a man behind the grin. She had imposed her helplessness on him this once. But if she failed him she would not have, professionally, a second chance. "I insist on your having talent," said Andrew.