Page 127 - women-in-love

band that hung by the mantel, clinging to it for a moment,
then releasing it suddenly. Like a priestess she looked, un-
conscious, sunk in a heavy half-trance.
A servant came, and soon reappeared with armfuls of
silk robes and shawls and scarves, mostly oriental, things
that Hermione, with her love for beautiful extravagant
dress, had collected gradually.
‘The three women will dance together,’ she said.
‘What shall it be?’ asked Alexander, rising briskly.
‘Vergini Delle Rocchette,’ said the Contessa at once.
‘They are so languid,’ said Ursula.
‘The three witches from Macbeth,’ suggested Fraulein
usefully. It was finally decided to do Naomi and Ruth and
Orpah. Ursula was Naomi, Gudrun was Ruth, the Contessa
was Orpah. The idea was to make a little ballet, in the style
of the Russian Ballet of Pavlova and Nijinsky.
The Contessa was ready first, Alexander went to the pia-
no, a space was cleared. Orpah, in beautiful oriental clothes,
began slowly to dance the death of her husband. Then Ruth
came, and they wept together, and lamented, then Naomi
came to comfort them. It was all done in dumb show, the
women danced their emotion in gesture and motion. The
little drama went on for a quarter of an hour.
Ursula was beautiful as Naomi. All her men were dead,
it remained to her only to stand alone in indomitable asser-
tion, demanding nothing. Ruth, woman-loving, loved her.
Orpah, a vivid, sensational, subtle widow, would go back
to the former life, a repetition. The interplay between the
women was real and rather frightening. It was strange to

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