Roddy and Mariella were dancing in the porch now, not speaking or looking about them. The record came to an end, but they went on whirling while Martin sought a new tune and set it going; then they glided forward again. Roddy had forgotten her: she was not up to his dancing. At last Mariella stopped and disengaged herself. ‘I want to dance with Martin now,’ she said. Roddy left her and strolled over to Judith. ‘Been giving Martin a dancing-lesson?’ he said. ‘Goodness, no! He’s been teaching me. I didn’t know how.’ ‘Oh?--How did you get on?’ ‘Quite well, thank you. It’s easy. I _think_ I can dance now.’ ‘Good!’ It was plain he was not interested; or else was incredulous. He thought she was just a stumbling novice; he was not going to dance with her or even offer to go on teaching her. Roddy would never have bothered to give her hints or be patient while she was awkward. He was so good himself that he could not condescend to incompetence. But Judith, still, though more doubtfully, exalted, said: ‘Shall we dance?’ He looked surprised. ‘All right. Certainly. Just let me cool down a bit.’ He was not in any hurry. He sat on the table and watched Marietta’s neatly moving feet. ‘She’s good at her stuff,’ he said. ‘Do you adore dancing?’ ‘Well, I don’t know that I adore it. It’s fun once in a way.’ ‘It seems funny not to be mad about a thing if you can do it so beautifully.’ He looked at her with amusement. She must remember not to ask Roddy if he adored things. His secret life went on in a place where such states of feeling were unknown. ‘Shall we?’ he said at last. She was not going to be able to do it; the rhythm had gone out of her limbs. He was going to be too good for her and she would stumble and he would get disgusted and not dance with her any more.... After a few moments of anguish, suddenly she could, after all. Long light movements flowed from her body. Roddy looked down. ‘But you can dance,’ he said. ‘I told you I could. You didn’t believe me.’ He laughed. ‘You don’t mean to tell me you’ve never danced before?’ ‘Never.’ ‘Swear?’ ‘Cross my heart.’ ‘But of course,’ said Roddy, ‘you couldn’t help dancing, such a beautiful mover as you.’ He had really said that! She lifted her face and glowed at him: life was too, too rich. The music came to an end. Roddy stood still with his arm round her waist and called imperiously to Martin for another tune. ‘Come on,’ he said, and tightened his arm round her. You might almost dare to suppose he was a little, a very little exalted too. ‘But you do love it, Roddy!’ He looked down at her and smiled. ‘Sometimes.’ ‘Do you now?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Roddy!’ She was silenced by happiness. They were alone now. Martin and Mariella were on the verandah, and she heard Mariella say: ‘Darlin’ Martin, fetch me my coat.’ ‘Mariella’s very fond of Martin, isn’t she?’ ‘I don’t know. I suppose she is. What makes you think so?’ ‘I just heard her call him darling just now.’ He laughed.