The stage manager came out from the wings, and taking her hand led her off. “Do you see what I was talking about, Strings?” No one is going to want to hear a note from you until you have tone like. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. She had a vision of policemen, reproving magistrates, a crowded court, public disgrace. I want to shout! I want to sing! I am glad! I am glad to be alive because you are alive! I am glad to be a woman because you are a man! I am glad! I am glad! I am glad! I thank God for life and you. "Sir Rowland, I salute you as your nephew. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish.
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