She remembered,
with terror, previous sensations, and fought off the vertigo, biting
down into her lips. She wanted to smile, but her mouth felt numb, as if
it dragged instead of lifted.
"You--you make us very happy--_maestro_."
"Some day," cried Zoe, still thrilling from her effort, "I will sing
until my high C hits the sky!"
'I think you will, _bella mia_, if you have in you the power to work for
it."
"I have."
"Art is the most cruel paymaster in the world. It exacts full
recompense, toil, and heartache before it deals out a first payment
in success."
"I'll pay! I'll pay for what I want, and most of all I want to sing!"
She trilled up a brace of scales for him then, and there were minute
questions of health and habits, and, finally, in a waiting pause, Lilly
found word to ask the question against which her lips stiffened.
"What--are--your terms--_maestro_?"
Something strange happened then, his well-known acumen immediately
asserting itself. It was as if he had slipped into another personality.
"Fifteen dollars a lesson. She must have three a week and her school
work and other studies should be reduced.
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