naturally quarrelsome, so far as I can judge, though really I have seen very little of her.”

“By the way, what was the real history of that quarrel?” said Sullivan. “I only know the beginning of it, and I expect Carl doesn’t know even that, do you, Carl?”

“No,” I murmured modestly. “But perhaps it’s a State secret.”

“Not in the least,” Sir Cyril said, turning to me. “I first heard Rosa in Genoa — the opera-house there is more of a barn even than this, and a worse stage than this used to be, if that’s possible. She was nineteen. Of course, I knew instantly that I had met with the chance of my life. In my time I have discovered eleven stars, but this was a sun.