Smart New York had adopted the “Isadorables.” The fashionable magazines had taken them up and had spread Dr. Arnold Genthe’s photographs of Anna, Lysel, Gretl, Thérése, Erica, and Irma over their pages. Frank Crowninshield championed them. During a hot June they sold out a half-dozen performances in Carnegie Hall, which takes some doing at any time of the year. Following a successful tour, I presented them at the Metropolitan Opera House, this time with an orchestra. The girls, charming, delightful, fresh, were a direct product of Isadora, for which she used herself as model. Theirs was a reproduction of Isadora’s art. One of them functions actively today, Maria Thérésa, giving out a fine, strong, sturdy reflection of Isadora’s training and ideas. Basically, as an individualist, Isadora was a solo artist. She made no great effort to build up group dances into a series of linked dances that result in some form of dance drama. Such mass dances as she arranged were in imitation of the Greek chorus. Broken down into simple elements, they were nothing more than lines of girls, all of whom repeated the same simple movements. Her own creative gifts, which were magnificent, found their expression in her solo dances, and it is in this respect Maria Thérésa splendidly carries on. It was in Germany that Isadora’s ideas made the deepest impression, and any legacy she may have left finds its expression in the “free” school that comes out of that country. If she had no abiding place, Berlin saw more of her when she was at her best than any other country. It was there that the term “goddess” was attached to her. Even the sick were brought to see the performances of the _Göttliche Heilige_ Isadora in order that they might be cured. The serious German writers were greatly impressed. Isadora expressed it thus: “The weekly receptions at our house in Victoria Strasse became the centre of artistic and literary enthusiasm. Here took place many learned discussions on the dance as a fine art; for the Germans take every art discussion most seriously, and give the deepest consideration to it. My dance became the subject of violent and even fiery debates. Whole columns constantly appeared in all the papers, sometimes hailing me as a genius of a newly discovered art, sometimes denouncing me as a destroyer of the real classic dance, i.e., the ballet.” In _Impresario_ I have written about Isadora’s last American tour, under my management, in all its more lurid aspects. In February, 1923, she returned to France, and in 1924 went back to Russia with her poet-husband, Essenin. Not long after, Essenin hanged himself to a hook on the wall of his room in the Hotel Angleterre, in Leningrad. In 1927, Isadora returned to Paris, and on 8th July gave her last concert at the Théâtre Mogador.