Was this some jest, some wager on Bordenave's part?
Never had a more tuneless voice been heard or one managed with less art.

Her manager judged of her excellently; she certainly sang like a squirt.

Nay, more, she didn't even know how to deport herself on the stage: she thrust her arms in front of her while she swayed her whole body to and fro in a manner which struck the audience as unbecoming and disagreeable.

Cries of "Oh, oh!" were already rising in the pit and the cheap places.

There was a sound of whistling, too, when a voice in the stalls, suggestive of a molting cockerel, cried out with great conviction: "That's very smart!" All the house looked round.