England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Spiritualism -- Fiction
"But, my dear, you said you couldn't dance," she exclaimed.
"Oh, this sort of thing," said he. "I meant the steppings and crawlings
of the new style."
Helena was too content to talk; her whole being glowed with the
satisfaction of this flowing movement. The floor got ever emptier: lines
of expectant fox-trotters and bunny-huggers stood round the wall, but
none of them objected to watching for a little longer the entrancing
couple who now had the floor almost to themselves. Couple after couple
dropped off and stood looking, and to Helena's gleaming eyes they passed
in streaks of black and white and many-coloured hues as she and Archie
moved ever more freely and largely over the untenanted space. She could
just see the faces of friends as she passed, and knew that Lord Harlow
had come in and was standing by the door. There was no question of luck
in that; he was but doing what she knew he was obliged to do. Then the
web of sound that poured out of the gallery grew more brightly coloured
as it quickened to its close, and still Archie and she moved without
effort as if they were part of it and of each other. And then the whole
fabric of that divine dream of melody and motion was shattered, for the
dance was over.
Archie had not spoken either since he intimated that he had alluded to
steppings and crawlings, and now he paused for a moment in the middle of
the room, breathing just a little quickly and bewildered as with some
dazzling light. Ever since he had put his arm round the girl and taken
her hand in his, he had had that sense of sinking into sunlit waters,
where he arrived at his true and naked self. Now he had swum up again,
and he was clothed in black coat and white shirt, and Helena was
standing a step apart from him, and every one else at the edge of the
room was very far away. Instantly a mingling of wild consternation and
triumph seized him.
"Oh, Helena, were we doing that all by ourselves?" he said. "How
frightful! Let's get out of it. But wasn't it divine? May we do it again
soon? Or will they have nothing but crawlings?"
It appeared that crawlings were to be the next item, and Archie noticed
that in the crowd that now came about them again a particular man had
his eye on them, and was unmistakably burrowing towards them.
"Yes, Archie; of course we will," said the girl. "Go and see your aunt,
and ask if we may have another waltz ever so soon. Oh, here's Lord
Harlow; I want to introduce you."
This was done, and Lord Harlow turned to Helena again.
"I feel as if I had been present at some Bacchic festival," he said in a
very precise voice. "But you should have vine-leaves in your hair, and
er--your partner a tunic and a thyrsus. I feel myself as prosaic as a
Bradshaw. But may I be your Bradshaw?"
Helena looked from one to the other; if she had had a tail she would
certainly have been switching it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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