Le Grande's address from Monia.
Then out into the night, Harmony to the Siebensternstrasse, the tall
soldier to find the dancer at her hotel, or failing that, at the
Ronacher Music-Hall.

Harmony took a taxicab--nothing must be spared now--bribed the chauffeur
to greater speed, arrived at the house and ran across the garden, still
tearless, up the stairs, past Rosa on the upper flight, and rang the
bell.

Marie admitted her with only a little gasp of surprise. There was
nothing to warn Peter. One moment he sat by the bed, watch in hand,
alone, drear, tragic-eyed. The next he had glanced up, saw Harmony and
went white, holding to the back of his chair. Their eyes met, agony
and hope in them, love and death, rapture and bitterness. In Harmony's,
pleading, promise, something of doubt; in Peter's, only yearning, as of
empty arms. Then Harmony dared to look at the bed and fell on her knees
in a storm of grief beside it. Peter bent over and gently stroked her
hair.

Le Grande was singing; the boxes were full. In the body of the immense
theater waiters scurried back and forward among the tables. Everywhere
was the clatter of silver and steel on porcelain, the clink of glasses.
Smoke was everywhere--pipes, cigars, cigarettes. Women smoked between
bites at the tables, using small paper or silver mouthpieces, even a
gold one shone here and there. Men walked up and down among the diners,
spraying the air with chemicals to clear it. At a table just below the
stage sat the red-bearded Dozent with the lady of the photograph. They
were drinking cheap native wines and were very happy.

From the height of his worldly wisdom he was explaining the people to
her.

"In the box--don't stare, Liebchen, he looks--is the princeling I have
told you of. Roses, of course. Last night it was orchids."

"Last night! Were you here?" He coughed.

"I have been told, Liebchen. Each night he sits there, and when she
finishes her song he rises in the box, kisses the flowers and tosses
them to her."

"Shameless! Is she so beautiful?"

"No. But you shall see. She comes."

Le Grande was very popular. She occupied the best place on the program;
and because she sang in American, which is not exactly English and more
difficult to understand, her songs were considered exceedingly risque.
As a matter of fact they were merely ragtime melodies, with a lilt to
them that caught the Viennese fancy, accustomed to German sentimental
ditties and the artific