“Kind of throbbish, isn’t it?” he asked Fred.
“Hang on!” admonished the star, substituting his own cigarette for one of Japanese make.
At the close of the second course, the plates were changed quickly and the lights went down to a dusky glow. The music changed.
All at once two figures occupied the center of the floor. They were men lithe and supple. They were masked hideously. Their costumes were indescribable. At once they plunged into an orgy of action through which ran a certain savage grace. They crept, leaped, swayed, whirled, their gorgeous jeweled costumes swinging and flashing. Then they were gone, the lights flashed up.
“That is the beginning of a most old and antic dance,” remarked a Japanese on David’s right. “You know, antic—that which has come down from so old time. Regard—behold! More is yet coming.”
“What is it all about?” asked David.
“Old-time devils in Japan,” explained the man.
“I thought so,” said David. “They sort of look that way.”
“Yess, that way,” agreed the Japanese. “You watch!”
The dance alternated with the dinner. Changes of masks, different costumes, and new dancers came and went in an exhibition more exotic than David’s wildest dreams.