Tamara shivered slightly. She had the feeling known as a goose walking
over her grave.
"It is as if wild animals played here--hardly human beings," she said.
"Look at that cabinet, and the sofa, and--and--that picture! One cannot
help reflecting upon what caused those holes. One's imagination can
conjure up extraordinary things."
"Not more extraordinary than the probable facts," and Valonne laughed
as if at some astonishing recollection. "You have not yet seen our
host's own rooms though, I expect?"
"Why?" asked Tamara. "But can they possibly be worse than this?"
"No, that is just it. He had them done up by one of your English firms,
and they are beautifully comfortable and correct. His sitting-room is
full of books, and a few good pictures, and leads into his bedroom and
dressing-room; and as for the bathroom it is as perfect as any the best
American plumber could invent!"
Valonne had spent years at Washington, and in England too, and spoke
English almost as a native.
"He is the most remarkable contrast of wildness and civilization I have
ever met."
"It always seems to me as though he were trying to crush something--to
banish something in himself," said Tamara. "As though he did these wild
things to forget."
"It is the limitless nature warring against an impossible bar. If he
were an Englishman he would soar to be one of the greatest of your
country, Madame," Valonne said. "You have not perhaps talked to him
seriously; he is extraordinarily well read; and then on some point that
we of the Occident have known as children, he will be completely
ignorant, but he never bores one! Nothing he does makes one feel heavy
like lead!"
Tamara looked so interested, Valonne went on.
"These servants down here absolutely idolize him; they have all been in
the house since he or they were born. For them he can do no wrong. He
has a gymnasium, and he keeps two or three of them to exercise him, and
wrestle with him, and last year Basil, the second one, put his master's
shoulder out of joint, and then tried to commit suicide with remorse.
You can't, until you have been here a long time, understand their
strange natures. So easily moved to passion, so fierce and barbaric,
and yet so full of sentiment and fidelity. I firmly believe if he were
to order them to set fire to us all in our beds tonight, they would do
it without a word! He is their personal 'Little Father.' For them there
is a trinity to worship and respect--the Emperor, God, and their
Master."