"They talk of closing the Promenade," she answered.
"Never!" he murmured easily, reassuringly.
He remembered the night years earlier when, as a protest against some
restrictive action of a County Council, the theatre of varieties whose
Promenade rivalled throughout the whole world even the Promenade of
the Folies-Bergere, shut its doors and darkened its blazing facade,
and the entire West End seemed to go into a kind of shocked mourning.
But the next night the theatre had reopened as usual and the Promenade
had been packed. Close the Promenades! Absurd! Not the full bench
of archbishops and bishops could close the Promenades! The thing was
inconceivable, especially in war-time, when human nature was so human.
"But it is quite serious!" she cried. "Everyone speaks of it.... What
idiots! What frightful lack of imagination! And how unjust! What do
they suppose we are going to do, we other women? Do they intend to put
respectable women like me on to the pavement? It is a fantastic idea!
Fantastic!... And the night-clubs closing too!"
"There is always the other place."
"The Ottoman? Do not speak to me of the Ottoman. Moreover, that also
will be suppressed. They are all mad." She gave a great sigh.
Pages:
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231