dreamed of. She danced in towns that were little better than lumber camps, on stages so small that the actual tempo of the dances had frequently to be altered at the last moment, on stages made of hard wood, agonizing to those dancing on the pointes, on stages with slopes so steep that certain evolutions became exceedingly dangerous, and Rosing, watching from the wings, frequently feit sick and cold with apprehension.
"Never again, Lina, never again. To endanger your very limbs for these barbarians is not worth all the dollars there are in the world!"
"But it is," she said eagerly. "When we go back to Europe we can rent our own theaters, choose our own ballets, and give the performances we want, instead of being ordered about by the first impresario who comes along!"
During the terrifïc strain and hustle of these tours she became daily more dominant and he increasingly subdued. As he so often remarked, he was no longer very young, and the process of barnstorming to which they were subjected, the veritable hurricane of activity which whirled them remorsely from town to town, the glaring publicity, the unceasing clatfer and din which accompanied them everywhere they went, seemed daily to sap his strength, his energy, his very life-blood. And all appeals to Lina were useless. She was devoured by a very fury of ambition. She could not, would not rest.
When he reproached her, which was often, she protested, with every appearance of indignation:
"You taught me to work hard, didn't you? You told me to interest myself in my work and nothing else. And now that I'm doing it, now that I'm slaving so that one day I we—may have a ballet of our own, you find fault with me. I can't understand you. Really, I can't understand you."