, a little vaguely.
She looked at him for a few moments, and then went on. "If you were to
lead off," she suggested.
"Me? But I can't dance!..."
"You can't dance!"
"No," he continued. "Somehow, I've never learnt to dance!" She looked
disappointed. "I thought mebbe you an' me 'ud lead off," she said.
"I'm sorry," he replied. "Perhaps Mr. Quinn can dance!..."
Henry gave his arm to her and they walked off, to begin the slow
procession round the room until all the couples were ready.
"I think Mr. Marsh is the only one in the place that can't dance,"
Sheila said, as she placed her hand on Henry's shoulder.
He put his arm round her waist and they moved off in the dance. "I
suppose he is," he answered.
7
He danced with her several times. Her cheeks were glowing and the lustre
of her eyes was like the sparkle of the stars. Her lips were slightly
parted, and now and then her breath came quickly. As they swung round
and round, she sometimes closed her eyes and then slowly opened them
again. He became aware of some strange emotion that he had never known
before.
"I love dancin'," she murmured, half to herself.
"Yes," he replied, scarcely knowing that he was speaking.
"I love dancin'," she said again, and again he said "Yes" and no
more....
He led her to a seat at the side of the room and sat down on the chair
next to it. They did not speak, but sat there watching the swift
movements of the other dancers. Marsh was somewhere at the other end of
the room, looking on ... a little puzzled, a little disturbed ... but
pleased, too, because the dancers were pleased. He was wondering why the
interest in the Gaelic language was not so strong as the interest in the
waltz. "A foreign dance, too ... not Gaelic at all!"
But Henry had forgotten the Gaelic movement, and was conscious only of
the girl beside him and her glowing cheeks and her bright eyes and the
softness of her.... She was older than he was, a couple of years and he
noticed that she had just "put up" her hair. It had been hanging loosely
when he first saw her, and he wondered which he liked better, the loose,
hanging hair, or the hair bound round her head. Her slender white neck
was revealed now that her hair was up, and it was very beautiful, but he
thought that after all, his first sight of her, as she stood in the
doorway, the raindrops still on her face, and flung back the long, loose
strands of dark hair that lay about her shoulders ... he
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