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Updated: May 29, 2025
They were preparing to attend the Courtelyou's reception that evening to the great Baskinelli, whose musical achievements had been equaled only by his social successes during this, his first New York season. "Anyway," she twinkled from the top of the stairs, "you needn't be frightened for tonight. Nothing so meek and mild as a pianist can hurt you."
It was to him she called again in her peril, as she had called before in the wreck of the yacht, in the den of Baskinelli, and even this day from the rim of the runaway balloon. Always, inspired by that call, he had found their way to safety. He thrust the full weight of his mighty body against the door which held like solid rock. "Harry! Harry!" came the cries again.
It was the last thing in the world she had meant to do. She was angry at herself in an instant, for his fixed, guarding gaze was upon her. She met his eyes and turned quickly to Baskinelli. "Chaos? I've always loved that word," she flashed. "There must be so many lovely adventures where there are no laws." "I said the chaos in a man's heart could be ruled by a woman," said Baskinelli.
"Isn't this splendid?" she exclaimed. "I am sure you won't disappoint me, Signor Baskinelli. I hope you aren't going to show us a happy Chinese family at supper. Only the most dreadful sights amuse me." "Ali, but we, must not take risks," replied Baskinelli. "There are some beings in the world, Miss Marvin, so exquisitely precious that a man would commit sin if he placed them in peril."
"But only the worst and wickedest places," she admonished Baskinelli. He leaned suddenly very near to her. "Do you really mean that, Miss Marvin?" he asked. "Indeed I do," she answered. "Very well. But first we shall go to the new restaurant. It is yet too early for the worst and wickedest to be abroad or rather to seek their lairs."
Everybody could see that Pauline and Harry had had a quarrel and that Pauline, was flirting outrageously with Baskenelli simply for revenge that is, every one except Harry could see it. "Pardon me, but is that what you call a graft investigation that you are making, Miss Hamlin?" inquired Baskinelli. "No, but the food is so funny.
But it was not to the little joss house that Signor Baskinelli guided the party. In the little joss house the bells are pounded without respite, the visitors come and go at all hours of the day and night save the few set hours when the joss sacrifices profit to true prayer. Baskinelli took his guests to the joss house of the Golden Screens.
They were playing perfectly their roles. The two Chinamen shuffled into the room. The priest arose in jabbering protest. They argued with him acridly. A few feet away one could see that their cheap linen robes covered the ordinary street garb of the Chinamen; that the ugly lines on their faces were painted, as on the face of the Joss. Baskinelli was laughing.
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