When it was over, and she and Kate were passing out with the crowd, a kind of languor descended on her, like the languor that comes after the senses have been satisfied. It was not a sensual feeling, although it was of the body. Kate too was silent. Pavlova’s dancing had reacted on her strangely. “Let’s walk!” “Would you rather?” “Yes.” “As far as my rooms. Then I shall put you in a taxi.” They had to wait awhile before crossing the road, as motors were swarming up. “That woman’s a genius. She made me feel like a rusty bit of clockwork!” “She had a most extraordinary effect on me!” Kate took Eve’s arm. “The thing’s pure, absolutely pure, and yet, she seems to show you what you never believed was in you. It’s the soul of the world coming out to dance, and making you understand all that is in us women. Heavens, I found myself feeling like a Greek girl, a little drunk with wine, and still more drunk with love.” “Kate—you!” “Yes, and it was not beastly, as those things usually are. I’m not an emotional person. I suppose it is the big subconscious creature in one answering a language that our clever little heads don’t understand.” Eve was thinking. “I envy that woman!” “Why?” “Because she has a genius, and because she has been able to express her genius, and because she has succeeded in conquering the crowd. They don’t know how clever she is, but they go and see her dance. Think what it means being a supreme artist, and yet popular. For once the swine seem to appreciate the pearl.” They were making their way through a crowd of loiterers at the corner of Tottenham Court Road, when a tall man brushed against them and stepped aside. He wore a black wideawake hat, a low collar with a bunchy black silk tie, and a loose black coat with a tuberose in the buttonhole. He stared first at Kate, and then at Eve with a queer, comprehensive, apprizing stare. Suddenly he took off his hat. The women passed on. “Beast!” Kate’s mouth was iron. “That was Hugh Massinger.” “Hugh Massinger!” “Yes.” “Eve, I said ‘beast,’ and I still mean it.” “Your impression?” “Yes. I don’t think old Champion ought to have sent you to that sort of man.” * * * * * CHAPTER XXVI KATE DUVEEN GOES ABROAD