“In the upper boxes; I did not want to dress.” She leaned across the table with brightening eyes. “For a dramatic soprano you sing that light music with extraordinary ease and fluency.”
“Did I sing it as well as mother?”
“Oh, my dear, it was quite different. Your mother’s art was in her phrasing and in the ideal appearance she presented.”
“And didn’t I present an ideal appearance?”
“It’s like this, Evelyn. The Margaret of Gounod and his librettist is not a real person, but a sort of keepsake beauty who sings keepsake music. I assume that you don’t think much of the music; brought up as you have been on the Old Masters, you couldn’t. Well, the question is whether parts designed in such an intention should be played in the like intention, or if they should be made living creations of fle
