Not that they were selected on this account; indeed, Signor De June did not interest himself in their Experiences—he only wanted form and intellect—but mostly form. Yet a coryphee must have brains, else she could not learn to conduct her airy shape through the mazy evolutions of the dance. But it came about by degrees that Signor De June learned that all of his ladies were Ladies with a History. And being a philosopher, he reasoned it out that the ballet was the only respectable calling that was open to a woman who had been the victim of misplaced love. Such is the bitter cruelty of a sham-virtuous society. And thus on page 141 Signor De June muses as follows: “Had my ladies been possessed of homely faces and crusty manners, no temptation could have come to them, and they would all have lived and died virtuous maidens; or at best been the contented (or discontented) wives of farmers, molders, bricklayers or mill hands. But being loving and gracious and sympathetic and withal beautiful, they have been unfortunate. Furthermore no woman should ever speak of her virtue unless she hates her husband and loves another man.” So Signor De June was very kind and gentle with these ladies—aye! tender. He loved them all; he guarded and shielded them from every fierce temptation. It was a pure paternal love—more properly Platonic. He only wished to make them happy—that was all. They gave exhibitions in the principal cities of the United States and were everywhere successful. Occasionally a husband or a former lover of one of these Women who Did would appear upon the scene, and whenever this happened the Signor, who was a large man and ambi-dextrous, would take the offender neck and crop and throw him out. This always cooled the most amorous follower, but it kept Signor De June quite busy. Yet it must not be thought that the Signor was brutal—far from it: all were welcome to worship his ladies, but it must be done from the parquette or dress circle. So they were all very prosperous and very happy, until one day the wife of Signor De June appeared and camped upon his trail. He had gotten an Indiana divorce from this woman five years before, but the courts had pronounced it invalid, and now she was upon him neck and crop, just as he had been upon the lovers and husbands. He tried to explain to her that he loved the Corps de Ballet, not the ladies individually. He loved them as a Whole, not singly. Moreover, his love was idyllic—Platonic. The wife explained that the thing did not exist except in books, and further stated her belief that the love was Plutonic if anything; and moreover it must cease.