Then suddenly the house lights sank and the footlights rose. From all over the theatre came energetic whispers of “Sh! Sh!” Three strokes, as of a great mallet, sepulchral, grave, came from behind the wings; the leader of the orchestra raised his baton, then brought it slowly down, and while from all the instruments at once issued a prolonged minor chord, emphasised by a muffled roll of the kettledrum, the curtain rose upon a medieval public square. The soprano was seated languidly upon a bench. Her grande scene occurred in this act. Her hair was unbound; she wore a loose robe of cream white, with flowing sleeves, which left the arms bare to the shoulder. At the waist it was caught in by a girdle of silk rope.

“This is the great act,” whispered Mrs. Cressler, leaning over Laura’s shoulder. “She is superb later on. Superb.”