We walked in the Yussopov Park. He spoke superbly about the customs of
the Moscow aristocracy. A big Russian peasant woman was working on the
flower-bed, bent at right angles, showing her ivory legs, shaking her
ten-pound breasts. He looked at her attentively.
"It is those caryatids who have kept all that magnificence and
extravagance going. Not only by the labour of peasant men and women,
not only by the taxes they pay, but in the literal sense by their
blood. If the aristocracy had not from time to time mated with
such horse-women as she, they would have died out long ago. It is
impossible with impunity to waste one's strength, as the young men of
my time did. But after sowing their wild oats, many married serf-girls
and produced a good breed. In that way, too, the peasant's strength
saved them. That strength is everywhere in place. Half the aristocracy
always has to spend its strength on itself, and the other half to
dilute itself with peasant blood and thus diffuse the peasant blood a
little. It's useful."