The story came pouring out like water from a burst dam. It developed, as I pieced it together, that Koudriavtzeff was trying to make certain bookings for de Basil’s Original Ballet Russe on the way back from South America. Although there were some bookings, he had not been able to secure sufficient dates and, under the arrangement he had made with the “Colonel,” Koudriavtzeff was obliged to deliver. That was not all. Not only was he short with dates; he did not have the means with which to make the necessary campaign, even if he had obtained the dates. I pondered the situation. “Is de Basil in South America?” I asked. “No,” replied Koudriavtzeff. “He is here in New York.” Somehow, I could not regard this as good news. I pondered the matter again. After all I had gone through with this man, I asked myself, why should I continue to listen to Koudriavtzeff? If ever there was a time when I should have said, firmly, unequivocally “to hell with ballet,” it was at this moment. But I continued to listen. With one ear I was listening to the insistent refrain: “To hell with ballet.” With the other, I was harking to my responsibilities to the local managers, to my lease with the Metropolitan Opera House. Koudriavtzeff proceeded with his rapid-fire chatter. From it one sentence came sharp and dear: “Will you please be so kind, Mr. Hurok? Will you, please, see de Basil?” It could have been that I was not thinking as clearly and objectively as I should have been at that moment. I agreed. The next evening, de Basil, Koudriavtzeff, and I met. Mrs. Hurok sounded the warning. “I don’t object to your seeing him,” she said, “but you’re not going in with him again?” The meetings were something I kept from the knowledge of my office for several days. As I have pointed out before, de Basil was a Caucasian. The Caucasians and the Georgians have several qualities in common, not the least of which is the love of and desire for intrigue, coupled with infinite patience, never-flagging energy, and nerves of steel. It was perfectly possible for de Basil to sit for days and nights on end, occasionally uttering a few words, silent for long, long periods, but waiting, patiently waiting. It is these alleged virtues that make the Caucasians the most efficient and successful members of those bodies whose job it is to practice the delicate art of the third-degree: the O.G.P.U., the N.K.V.D.