Thyrsis was dazed at all this waste, and at the uproar in the place, where dozens of other parties were squandering money in the same blind fashion, and all laughing, chatting, joining in the choruses with the performers on the stage. Now and then he would catch a little of his host’s conversation, whichwas of all the capitals of Europe, and of art-worlds, the very existence of which was unknown to him. And then, on his left hand, there was Mlle. Armand, deftly picking off the leaves of an artichoke and dipping them intomayonnaise, and saying in her little bird’s voice, “They tell me, Monsieur, that you havedu génie. Oh, you should go to Paree to live—it is not here that one appreciatesdu génie!” And, then while Thyrsis was working out an explanation of his failure to visit Paris, some one
