aven had bestowed upon her before the devouring eyes of every
sort and description of Russian man. She was wont to sway rhythmically
and sinuously to the crazy band which played for her; now and then, with
pain in her heart and a merry laugh on her lips, she would leap onto the
tables and snap her fingers indiscriminately.

Often it was her duty to drink off glass after glass of champagne; but
she never became inebriated.[25] Her purpose in life was too set--she
meant to break away. In Nicholas Klick's "Life of Anna Podd" he states
that she met the Tsar at a ball, whence she was hired professionally.
This statement is entirely untrue; and I am more than surprised that
such a talented man as Klick should have made such a grievous error.

It has been absolutely impossible to unearth the true story of her
meeting with the Tsar.

It was after their meeting that the real progress of her career
commenced. Her Royal master established her in the palace as
serving-maid to the ailing Tsarina, a generous but somewhat tactless act
on his part. Somehow or other, history whispers, Anna fell foul of the
Tsarina--they simply hated one another. Occasionally the Tsarina would
throw hot water over Anna for sheer spite. Poor Anna, her beauty was
alike her joy and her terror. The Tsarina, Klick informs us, was
somewhat plain, and knew it--hence her distaste for the dazzling Anna.

One day, the Tsarina died--no one knew why. Anna, guileless and innocent
enough, was at once suspected by all as having poisoned her, except the
Tsar, who, to avert further suspicion, promptly created her Duchess of
Poddoff. This mark of royal esteem had the effect of quieting the people
for a while at least. Life went on much as usual at the Royal Palace.
Anna was kept in close seclusion for safety's sake. The Tsar loved her
with a steady, burning devotion which caused him to have all his
children by the Tsarina rechristened "Anna," indiscriminately of sex.

One day a messenger arrived in blue and yellow uniform[26] to bid the
Tsar gird himself for war. When the luckless Anna heard the news, she
was with her women (all ladies of title): some say she swooned; others
aver that she merely sat down rather suddenly. Fate had indeed dealt her
a smashing blow. Once her Imperial lover left her side she would at once
be taken prisoner and flung God knows where. This she knew
instinctively, intuitively. Klick describes for us her dramatic scene
with the Tsar.

"He w