She came slowly nearer, and those by the platform turned round to follow
her with their eyes. Hadj's hood had slipped completely down over his
face, and his chin was sunk on his chest. Batouch noticed it and looked
angry, but Domini had forgotten both the comedy of the two cousins
and the tragedy of Irena's love for Hadj. She was completely under the
fascination of this dance and of the music that accompanied it. Now that
Irena was near she was able to see that, without her genius, there would
have been no beauty in her face. It was painfully thin, painfully long
and haggard. Her life had written a fatal inscription across it as
their life writes upon the faces of poor street-bred children the one
word--Want. As they have too little this dancing woman had had too much.
The sparkle of her robe of gold tissue covered with golden coins was
strong in the lamplight. Domini looked at it and at the two sharp
knives above her head, looked at her violent, shuddering movements, and
shuddered too, thinking of Batouch's story of murdered dancers. It was
dangerous to have too much in Beni-Mora.
Irena was quite close now.
Pages:
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247