“There you have it from a disinterested party! That’s just what I’ve been hearing.”
“Of course,” Tommy continued, “I don’t want to do the man an injustice. He’s very able. He’s turned out some splendid artists.”
Dorothy smiled gratefully. Tommy’s authoritative statement might convince her mother where Dorothy’s had failed.
“That may all be very well,’ responded Mrs. Loamford determinedly, “but it’s my opinion that it’s just as good not to turn out such wonderful artists if—you understand me, I’m sure, Mr. Borge. And Madame Schneider is a very charming and talented woman. She’s a singer herself.”
“A good voice,” suggested Tommy, “is bound to assert itself eventually if the owner doesn’t abandon it.”
“Then you think Dorothy’s voice is worth cultivating?”
“Absolutely.”
“I hope you'll come to hear Dorothy sing again after she’s had some instruction from Madame Schneider.”
“Glad to.”
“I hope it isn’t an imposition on you, Mr. Borge. You must have a great many requests and you must be very busy-"
Tommy assured her that it was always a pleasure to hear charming young singers, that he could always make time, and that he was always glad to be of service to his friends. Mrs. Loamford now placed the seal of approval on Tommy by excusing herself.
The evening then began to take on a social savor. Tommy was not long in getting to his piéce de résistance, which was the story of how he had interviewed a lady novelist whose works were celebrated for their incandescence rather than their brilliance.
[32]
