Buck Chizler, however, was seriously affected. He was courting one of the nurses and he, for one, saw peril in preliminary defeat.
“There won't be any living with 'em,” he proclaimed, scowling darkly. “I know what it is to have 'em get the bit in their teeth. You just can't manage 'em, that's all. Upset all the dope. Likely to throw you clear over the fence. Experience ain't a particle of use. The gad don't do a bit of good. They just shut their jaws, lay back their ears, and—”
“We're not talking about race-horses, Buck,” interrupted Percival, smiling.
“Neither am I,” said Buck forcibly.
Ruth went to Olga Obosky. She did so only after a rather prolonged inward struggle. The Russian's interest in Percival was not moderated by the reserve supposed to be inherent in women. She was an open idolatress. One had only to watch the way she followed him with her dark, heavy-lidded eyes to know what was in her mind. Ruth tried not to despise her. She tried not to care, when she saw Percival laughing and talking with this beguiling sensualist,—and it was not an infrequent occurrence.
The dancer was seated on the floor of her hut, tailor-fashion, a cigarette between her lips, her bare arms resting limply on her knees, her body bent forward in an attitude of extreme fatigue. The three “coryphees” were busy at work about the place with Olga's maid. Ruth stopped in the doorway. Olga lazily removed the cigarette from her lips and smiled.
“I once thought I was very strong and unbreakable,” she said, “but now I know I am not. See, I am all in, as we would say in America. Suffering snakes,—how tired I am! That also comes from America. Won't you sit down, Miss Clinton? We have three or four deck chairs, you see, and some cushions.”
“Why do you sit there on the floor, all doubled up and—heavens, it must be uncomfortable,—if you are so tired? How do you manage your legs?”
“My legs? Oh, my legs are never tired. It is my poor back.” Whereupon she slowly, gracefully straightened out one of her legs, and without changing the position of her body, raised it, with toes and instep on a perfect line, until the heel was some three feet from the floor. Then she swung it slowly backward, twisting her body sinuously to one side. A moment later the foot was stretched out behind her and she lifted herself steadily, without apparent exertion, upon the other knee,—and then stood erect. Ruth watched this remarkable feat in wonder and admiration.
“How—how on earth do you do it?” she cried. “Why,—you must be as strong as—as—a—” She was about to say horse, and floundered.