The Golden Circle

peared incredible that this young Italian who tried to write plays and had known no success, and a white-haired wanderer who had danced his way from one small city t

te Jeanne believed in miracles, in angels, fairies, goblins, ghosts and all the rest. She was French. And French people, you must know, are that

d bodyguard, said in a low tone as they approached the final landing.

sed. The place they entered was large, but not dingy. It was far from that. Besides being an ambitious yo

an astonishingly low sum all the pieces he desired. The result was surprising. While one end of his a

brush and bright colors he had transformed the dingiest of dro

she entered the room. “Onc

floating like a golden butt

een sitting in the corner, sprang to his feet and joined her

mself with joy. “That dance alone would make an

ecstasy to spring into a corner and return with something

she deftly manipulated the lights and

be. This god was endowed with power to frighten and subdue. There was about his features something tha

-like motions of the gypsy fire dance, a silence fell as upon a fir

hed the dance and thrown herself upon the stage floor to lie there, head resting

terious child of France rose once more like a t

centuries before we were born, strange men and women with dark and burning

rom some planet where fires burn eternal, he alone holds the secret of fire. Let him perish and all fire on earth will cease. Matches

rn low and go out. Then the earth will be covered

threw her arms out as if to prot

ere was

e that.” Florence vo

is perfect!” He sprang excitedly to his feet. “This shall be our first scene. The curtain shall rise just here a