o say that the beauty of music is only the image
of beauty in life, and that life must come first. He couldn't endure
discords anywhere. Paul despised the musicians who scream at a flatted
_f_ but hunger for the flesh pots after the performance. No, he was never
_that_. And people resented it. The very people who ought to have
understood.

VERA

But he didn't neglect his music, that is...?

JEAN

No. He made enormous efforts to get his violin before the public. And
several times he was "discovered" by men who could have made him famous
overnight. We all believe that genius will out, despite anything, but it
doesn't always. Musicians respected him, but they were afraid of him, too.
He criticized them for their shortcomings in other things, just as he
criticized others for their shortcomings in art. He wouldn't accept any
talent, no matter how fine, if it went with anything small or destructive.
You can imagine the china shops he left in fragments! Just think! Once in
Berlin it was all arranged for him to have a recital--he was working
furiously on his program and I was dancing on air--when just at the last
moment he heard the director make some light remark or other about women.
Paul was raging! He threw the words back in the fellow's teeth, and made
him apologize, but there we were. They called off the recital, naturally.
And I couldn't blame Paul. I was just beginning to understand. Another
time ... no, he never had luck. Paul had bad luck. I often think of the
Greek tragedies.

VERA

Another time?

JEAN

Another time--it was in Warsaw--we had gone with a letter of introduction
to Sbarovitch--

VERA _The_ Sbarovitch?

JEAN

Yes. It was a chance in ten thousand. We pawned stuff to get there. Well,
Paul played like a god. Sbarovitch was quite overcome. He swore he would
compose something especially for Paul. We had visions of playing before
the Czar.

VERA

But what happened?

JEAN

What happened? One night a woman called on Paul at the hotel. He went
down, not knowing who it was or anything about her. He said afterward that
she started in flattering him and asking him to play for her some time....
Then Sbarovitch rushed in, seizing the woman and cursing Paul with
mouthfuls of Slavic hate. So _that_ dream ended!

VERA

But why? Was it Sbarovitch's wife?

JEAN

No, worse luck--it was his mistress. Ah, you can't imagine the re-action
from such disappointments! The long, slow warming to the ful