He goes through it with a grave face and
enjoys himself prodigiously. Your Latin when he fills the street with
jest and laughter obeys the ebullience of his temperament; your Teuton
always seems to be conscientiously obeying a book of regulations.
I soon arrived at the Winter Garten and secured a stall near the stage.
The vast building was packed with a smoking and perspiring multitude.
In shape it was like a long tunnel or a long, narrow railway station, an
impression intensified by a monotonous barrel roof. This was, however,
painted blue and decorated with myriads of golden stars. Along one side
ran a gallery where those who liked to watch the performance and eat a
six-course dinner at the same time could do so in elaborate comfort. In
the centre of the opposite side was the stage, and below it, grouped in
a semi-circle, the orchestra. Beneath the starry roof hung long wisps of
smoke clouds.
The performance had only just begun and Lola's turn was seventh on the
list. I reflected that greater deliberation in my movements would have
suited the maturity of my years, besides enabling me to eat a more
digestible dinner.
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