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And these are Monsieur " "Monsieur Patou and Monsieur Mouche," said Victoria, introducing the dogs with entire ease of manner. The German woman said something forcibly, and Margaret understood the child's reply in that tongue: "Mamma won't blame you, Fraulein; Harriet and I wished them to come down!"
He was neatly enough dressed in grey flannels, but he wore on his head the latest model of a French straw hat the French hatter, left to his own devices, has ever been the maddest of his tribe a high, coarsely woven crown surrounded by a quarter inch brim which related him much more nearly to Petit Patou than to the British General of Brigade.
The man's sincere devotion to both of them was obvious. "Madame Patou..." I began one day, at lunch we were talking of the tyranny of fashion, even in the idyllic lands where ladies are fully dressed in teeth necklaces and yellow ochre "Madame Patou..." She threw up her hands. We were lunching very well the petit vin of Auvergne is delicious "Mais voyons donc why all this ceremony among friends?
There it was, amid announcements of all sorts of clowns and trapezists and Japanese acrobats: "Special engagement of the world famed eccentrics, Les Petit Patou." If I uttered profane words, I am sure the Recording Angel followed an immortal precedent. In order to spy out the land, I went then and there to the afternoon performance.
He divested himself of his wig and did a five minutes' act of lightning impersonation with a trick felt hat, the descendant of the Chapeau de Tabarin: the ex-Kaiser, Foch, Clemenceau, Lloyd George, President Wilson a Boche prisoner, a helmeted Tommy, a Poilu which was marvellous, considering the painted Petit Patou face. For all assistance, Elodie held up a cheap bedroom wall-mirror.
For instance, Hylton, loyal friend as he is, has not to my knowledge done me the honour of shedding tears over Petit Patou." I felt horribly out of place on the bench in this public leafy park, beside these two warring lovers. But it was most humanly interesting. Lackaday seemed to be reinvested with the dignity of the man as I had first met him, a year ago.
However, he had recovered the faculty of making his livelihood somehow or other as Petit Patou, which, he began desperately to feel, was all that mattered. His soul revolted, but his will prevailed. Elodie accompanied him in serene content, more flaccid and slatternly than ever in her hotel room, keenly efficient on the stage.
Petit Patou prevailing, after an almost disastrous fall, perched his great height on chair superimposed on table, and, with his long lean legs and arms, looking like a monstrous and horrible spider, began to work the heavy bow across the long strings. He had rehearsed it to perfection. In performance, something happened. His artist's nerve had gone. His fingers fumbled impotently for the stops.
He is making up a besotted mind to say, "Fly with me," when the Karinski troupe vanishes Moscow-wards and an inexorable contract drives him to Dantzic. In that ancient town, looking into the faithful and ironical eyes of Prepimpin, he thanks God he did not make a fool of himself. You see, he succeeds. If you credited his modesty, you would think that Prepimpin made Petit Patou. Quod est absurdum.
Petit Patou and Prepimpin, the idols of the Provinces, have arrived. In Paris, when their presences coincide, he continues to consort with Bakkus, whose exquisite little tenor voice still affords him a means of livelihood. In fact Bakkus has had a renewed lease of professional activity. He sings at watering places, at palace hotels; which involves the physical activity which he abhors.
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