There are probably a dozen danced versions of Alexandre Dumas' novel La Dame aux Camelias, the most distinguished being Frederick Ashton's compact one-acter Marguerite et Armand, made for, and for many years danced exclusively by, Fonteyn and Nureyev. After an unconvincing start, in which the ladies of the house look more like Degas ballet girls than sophisticated women experienced in the entertainment of men, Veronica Paeper's work comes into its own in a series solos and duets between the protagonists the consumptive Marguerite, her rich protector', the young Armand and his disapproving, straight-laced father.

Stylistically this takes us a back a few decades, with many references to other works the first meeting of the lovers is straight out of MacMillan's Romeo and Juliet, for example but given that the story is set in the 19th century, Paeper's choreography fits well enough. Musically Verdi's well-known tunes, unsung and used in different contexts, are at first difficult to take, and sometimes sound too sweet without the vocals this is why Ashton used Liszt's great B minor piano sonata instead but, after the initial shock, one is swept away by Paeper's passionate dances, which demonstrate how the human body can convey the strongest feelings by movement alone.

This is a male-dominated world in which Marguerite starts as the possession of Douphol, and falls increasingly under the power of Armand, despite their mutual love. Physically the slender and feather-light Chiaki Nagao is perfect for the role of the consumptive heroine, and her dancing is both moving and musical as she swoons through her relationship with Armand, and agrees to sacrifice her love for his well-being. As Armand, Hironao Takahashi grows in stature from shy young man to jealous and possessive lover, with many opportunities, particularly in his solos, to show what a talented dance-actor he is.

Steven Wheeler is appropriately severe as his father, and shows us towards the end that he understands the selfless nature of Marguerite's love, and even displays a hint of attraction towards her, while Darren Goldsmith is both aristocratic and louche as her rich protector. There is also a terrific interlude in which Keiko Amemori and Patrick Howell bring a moment of pizzazz to the anguished proceedings as two scarlet-clad gypsies. This is not a ground-breaking work, but it succeeds on its own terms. Two of my three companions left with a tear in their eye, and I with a lump in my throat.