We turned off Poplar Avenue and after crossing three bridges over the Olkhovka river, approached a poetically situated cottage beside a watermill, with a tiny front garden. Downstairs there was just one room, with a door opening directy on to the street! On the bed lay the enchanting Kira, a gloriously beautiful woman of about twenty-three with superb eyelashes, wearing a white bonnet with a blue bow. Balmont sat at her feet, obviously besotted with her, and they were billing and cooing in Spanish, as both of them are linguists and able to converse in all manner of languages. His wife meekly poured out tea while Mirra ran about the garden. Kira was extremely nice, gentle, affectionate, cultivated, a music-lover, knew many marvellous legends and stories and was good at telling them. In the corner stood an ancient piano, a sort of hybrid piano-harpsichord. Both my Gavottes sounded rather good on it, but the Sarcasms, much loved by Balmont, came out as pure caricatures.