Then the applause broke out. Distinguished ladies contorted their bodies, toothless old men yelled like boys, sophisticated experts of the theatre climbed on their seats and waved. When Eva appeared the noise died down. For ten seconds nothing was heard but the sound of breathing and the rustle of garments. She looked into that gleaming sea of faces. The folds of her white Greek garment were still as marble. Then the storm of applause burst out anew. Over the balustrade of the gallery a girl bent and stretched out her arms, and cried with a sob in her voice, that rose above all the plaudits: “You have understood us, little soul!” Eva did not understand the Russian words. But it was not necessary. She looked up, and their sense was clear to her. IX At midnight she appeared, as she had consented to do, in the palace of Prince Fyodor Szilaghin. So soon as she was seen, a respectful murmur and then a silence surrounded her. Bearers of the most ancient names were assembled, the most beautiful women of society and of the court, and the representatives of foreign powers. Several gentlemen had already formed a group about her, when Fyodor Szilaghin approached, kissed her hand reverently, and drew her skilfully from the group. She passed through several rooms at his side. He did his best to fascinate her and succeeded in holding her attention. There was not a touch of banality about him. His gestures and words were calculated to produce a desired effect with the utmost coolness and subtlety. When he spoke he lowered his eyes a little. The ease and fullness of speech that is characteristic of all Russians had something iridescent in his case. An arrogant and almost cynical consciousness of the fact that he was handsome, witty, aloof, mysterious, and much desired never left him. His eyebrows had been touched with kohl, his lips with rouge. The dull blackness of his hair threw into striking relief the transparent pallor of his beardless face. “I find it most remarkable, Madame,” he said in a voice of unfathomable falseness, “that your art has not to us Slavs the oversophistication that is characteristic of most Western artists. It is identical with nature. It would be instructive to know the paths by which, from so different a direction, you reached the very laws and forms on which our national dances as well as our modern orchestral innovations are based. Undoubtedly you are acquainted with both.” “I am,” Eva answered, “and what I have seen is most uncommon. It has power and character and enthusiasm.” “Enthusiasm and perhaps something more--wild ecstasy,” said the prince, with a significant smile. “Without that there is no great creation in the world. Do you not believe that Christ shared such ecstasy? As for me, I cannot be satisfied with the commonly accepted figure of a gentle and gently harmonious Christ.” “It is a new point of view. It is worth thinking about,” Eva said with kindly tolerance.