The Price of Things. Glyn Elinor

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СКАЧАТЬ of the women, the gaiety in the air! She was accustomed to the new weird dances in England, but had not seen them performed as she now saw them.

      "This orgie of mad people is a wonderful sight," Verisschenzko said, as he stood by her side. "Paris has lost all good taste and sense of the fitness of things. Look! the women who are the most expert in the wriggle of the tango are mostly over forty years old! Do you see that one in the skin-tight pink robe? She is a grandmother! All are painted—all are feverish—all would be young! It is ever thus when a country is on the eve of a cataclysm—it is a dance Macabre."

      Amaryllis turned, startled, to look at him, and she saw that his eyes were full of melancholy, and not mocking as they usually were.

      "A dance Macabre! You do not approve of these tangoes then?"

      He gave a small shrug of his shoulders, which was his only form of gesticulation.

      "Tangoes—or one steps—I neither approve nor disapprove—dancing should all have its meaning, as the Greek Orchises had. These dances to the Greeks would have meant only one thing—I do not know if they would have wished this to take place in public, they were an aesthetic and refined people, so I think not. We Russians are the only so-called civilised nation who are brutal enough for that; but we are far from being civilised really. Orgies are natural to us—they are not to the French or the English. Savage sex displays for these nations are an acquired taste, a proof of vicious decay, the middle note of the end."

      "I learned the tango this Spring—it is charming to dance," Amaryllis protested. She was a little uncomfortable—the subject, much as she was interested in the Russian's downright views, she found was difficult to discuss.

      "I am sure you did—you counted time—you moved your charming form this way and that—and you had not the slightest idea of anything in it beyond anxiety to keep step and do the thing well! Yes—is it not so?"

      Amaryllis laughed—this was so true!

      "What an incredibly false sham it all is!" he went on. "Started by niggers or Mexicans for what it obviously means, and brought here for respectable mothers, and wives, and girls to perform. For me a woman loses all charm when she cheapens the great mystery-ceremonies of love—"

      "Then you won't dance it with me?" Amaryllis challenged smilingly—she would not let him see that she was cast down. "I do so want to dance!"

      His eyes grew fierce.

      "I beg of you not! I desire to keep the picture I have made of you since we met—later I shall dance it myself with a suitable partner, but I do not want you mixed with this tarnished herd."

      Amaryllis answered with dignity:

      "If I thought of it as you do I should not want to dance it at all." She was aggrieved that her expressed desire might have made him hold her less high—"and you have taken all the bloom from my butterfly's wing—I will never enjoy dancing it again—let us go and sit down."

      He gave her his arm and they moved from the room, coming almost into conflict with Madame Boleski and her partner, Ferdinand Ardayre, whose movements would have done honour to the lowest nigger ring.

      "There is your friend, Madame Boleski—she dances—and so well!"

      "Harietta is an elemental—as I told you before—it is right that she should express herself so. She is very well aware of what it all means and delights in it. But look at that lady with the hair going grey—it is the Marquise de Saint Vrillière—of the bluest blood in France and of a rigid respectability. She married her second daughter last week. They all spend their days at the tango classes, from early morning till dark—mothers and daughters, grandmothers and demi-mondaines, Russian Grand Duchesses, Austrian Princesses—clasped in the arms of incredible scum from the Argentine, half-castes from Mexico, and farceurs from New York—decadent male things they would not receive in their ante-chambers before this madness set in!"

      "And you say it is a dance Macabre? Tell me just what you mean."

      They had reached a comfortable sofa by now in a salon devoted to bridge, which was almost empty, the players, so eager to take part in the dancing, that they had deserted even this, their favourite game.

      "When a nation loses all sense of balance and belies the traditions of its whole history, and when masses of civilised individuals experience this craze for dancing and miming, and sex display, it presages some great upheaval—some calamity. It was thus before the revolution of 1793, and since it is affecting England and America and all of Europe it seems, the cataclysm will be great."

      Amaryllis shivered. "You frighten me," she whispered. "Do you mean some war—or some earthquake—or some pestilence, or what?"

      "Events will show. But let us talk of something else. A cousin of your husband's, who is a very good friend of mine, was here yesterday. He went to England to-day, you have not met him yet, I believe—Denzil Ardayre?"

      "No—but I know all about him—he plays polo and is in the Zingari."

      "He does other things—he will even do more—I shall be curious to hear what you think of him. For me he is the type of your best in England. We were at Oxford together; we dreamed dreams there—and perhaps time will realise some of them. Denzil is a beautiful Englishman, but he is not a fool."

      A sudden illumination seemed to come into Amaryllis' brain; she felt how limited had been all her thoughts and standpoints in life. She had been willing to drift on without speculation as to the goal to be reached. Indeed, even now, had she any definite goal? She looked at the Russian's strong, rugged face, his inscrutable eyes narrowed and gazing ahead—of what was he thinking? Not stupid, ordinary things—that was certain.

      "It is the second evening, amidst the most unlikely surroundings, that you have made me speculate about subjects which never troubled me before. Then you leave me unsatisfied—I want to know—definitely to know!"

      "Searcher after wisdom!" and he smiled. "No one can teach another very much. Enlightenment must come from within; we have reached a better stage when we realise that we are units in some vast scheme and responsible for its working, and not only atoms floating hither and thither by chance. Most people have the brains of grasshoppers; they spring from subject to subject, their thoughts are never under control. Their thoughts rule them—it is not they who rule their thoughts."

      They were seated comfortably on their sofa, and Verisschenzko leaning forward from his corner, looked straight into her eyes.

      "You control your thoughts?" she asked. "Can you really only let them wander where you choose?"

      "They very seldom escape me, but I consciously allow them indulgences."

      "Such as?"

      "Visions—day dreams—which I know ought not to materialise."

      Something disturbed her in his regard; it was not easy to meet, so full of magnetic emanation. Amaryllis was conscious that she no longer felt very calm—she longed to know What his dreams could be.

      "Yes—but if I told you, you would send me away."

      It seemed that he could read her desire. "I shall order myself to be gone presently, because the interest which you cause me to feel would interfere with work which I have to do."

      "And СКАЧАТЬ