“Show Goodwin how much you have learned of our speech, O lady of the lips of honeyed flame!” murmured Larry.

She hesitated; smiled at him, and then from that perfect mouth, out of the exquisite throat, in the voice that was like the chiming of little silver bells, she trilled a melody familiar to me indeed:

“She’s only a bird in a gilded cage,

A bee-yu-tiful sight to see⁠—”

“She’s only a bird in a gilded cage, A bee-yu-tiful sight to see⁠—”

And so on to the bitter end.