Part 9 (2/2)
One of them, Miss Pony, put her arm around Geoffrey's neck--the little fingers felt like the touch of insects--and said,--
”My darling, you love me?”
The big Englishman disengaged himself gently. It is Bad Form to be rough to women, even to j.a.panese courtesans. He began to be sorry that he had come.
”I have brought two very dear friends of mine,” said Patterson to all the world, ”for pleasure artistic rather than carnal; though perhaps I can safely prophesy that the pleasure of the senses is the end of all true art. We have come to see the national dance of j.a.pan, the Nagasaki reel, the famous _Chonkina_. I myself am familiar with the dance. On two or three occasions I have performed with credit in these very halls. But these two gentlemen have come all the way from England on purpose to see the dance. I therefore request that you will dance it to-night with care and attention, with force of imagination, with a sense of pleasurable antic.i.p.ation, and with humble respect to the naked truth.”
He spoke with the precise eloquence of intoxication, and as he flopped to the ground again Wigram clapped him on the shoulder with a ”Bravo, old man!”
Geoffrey felt very silent and rather sick.
_Chonkina! Chonkina!_
The little women made a show of modesty, hiding their faces behind their long kimono sleeves.
A servant girl pushed open the walls which communicated with the next room, an exact replica of the one in which they were sitting. An elderly woman in a sea-grey kimono was squatting there silent, rigid and dignified. For a moment Geoffrey thought that a mistake had been made, that this was another guest disturbed in quiet reflection and about to be justly indignant.
But no, this Roman matron held in her lap the white disc of a _samisen_, the native banjo, upon which she strummed with a flat white bone. She was the evening's orchestra, an old _geisha_.
The six little b.u.t.terflies lined up in front of her and began to dance, not our Western dance of free limbs, but an Oriental dance from the hips with posturings of hands and feet. They sang a harsh faltering song without any apparent relation to the accompaniment played by that austere dame.
_Chonkina! Chonkina!_
The six little figures swayed to and fro.
_Chonkina! Chonkina! Hoi!_
With a sharp cry the song and dance stopped abruptly. The six dancers stood rigid with hands held out in different att.i.tudes. One of them had lost the first round and must pay forfeit. Off came the broad embroidered sash. It was thrown aside, and the raucous singing began afresh.
_Chonkina! Chonkina! Hoi!_
The same girl lost again; and amid shrill t.i.tterings the gorgeous scarlet kimono fell to the ground. She was left standing in a pretty blue under-kimono of light silk with a pale pink design of cherry-blossoms starred all over it.
_Chonkina! Chonkina!_
Round after round the game was played; and first one girl lost and then another. Two of them were standing now with the upper part of their bodies bare. One of them was wearing a kind of white lace petticoat, stained and sour-looking, wrapped about her hips; the other wore short flannel drawers, like a man's bathing-pants, coloured in a Union Jack pattern, some sailor's offering to his _inamorata_. They were both of them young girls. Their b.r.e.a.s.t.s were flat and shapeless.
The yellow skin ended abruptly at the throat and neck with the powder line. For the neck and face were a glaze of white. The effect of this break was to make the body look as if it had lost its real head under the guillotine, and had received an ill-matched subst.i.tute from the surgeon's hands.
_Chonkina! Chonkina!_
Patterson had drawn nearer to the performers. His red face and his grim smile were tokens of what he would have described as pleasurable antic.i.p.ation. Wigram, too, his flabby visage paler than ever, his large eyes bulging, and his mouth hanging open, gazed as in a trance.
He had whispered to Geoffrey,--
”I've seen the _danse du ventre_ at Algiers, but this beats anything.”
Geoffrey from behind the fumes of the pipe-smoke watched the unreal phantasmagoria as he might have watched a dream.
_Chonkina! Chonkina!_
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