Now while all this turmoil went on, the ladys cried several times “How two to!” and [17] ]“Arent they two sweet?” and “Oh, no!” like a perfect choir, which Selia and Mr. Withersq hardly knew how to take.
The sharpnosed gent before long rose to his feet with a bored sniff.
“Art, my dear friend, is but a long sigh for the beautiful and great,” he drorled, and bursting into tears he left the room and was seen no more, and the ladys said he was charming too.
Selia now ventured to wisper to the young person beside her on the floor: “Why did he cry? What has he done wrong?”
“Oh, dont ask me, I am only a meer countess and no nothing of artists and their ways,” this beauty replied with an haughty smirk.
“I see,” politely said Selia, although she did not really, but feeling very improved to be on speaking terms with a countess so soon.
And now came another nice little event. [18] ]The man Tzpcham having quaft several bouts of the costly wines sudenly stept forward tossing back his hairs and then like a conjurer he pulled from his coat a thing like a football stuck on one side of a plate, only all made in one out of stone, and it was really a statue. It was a surprise for Selia and Mr. Withersq, as they had only seen statues before that were like people.
“It is my latest,” cried Tzpcham, and the brite ladys and the men bent and cooed round it making noises of pleasure.
“All art is the round getting the best of the plain,” said he then in a gloomy way shaking his head.
“How too true!” cried Selia gushingly, for she was a quick girl and had picked up this smart saying by now, and drew murmurs of admiration from all beholders.