Marley thought the dance never would end. It seemed to him that the dancers must drop from fatigue; but at last the mandolin and guitar ceased suddenly, the girls cried out a disappointed unisonant “Oh!” and then they all laughed and clapped their hands. Lavinia and Lawrence were coming up, glowing with the joy of the dance.
“Oh, that was splendid, Jack!” Lavinia cried, putting back her hair with that wave of her hand.
Lawrence’s face was redder than ever. He leaned over and in a whisper that was for Lavinia and Marley together he said:
“Lavinia, you’re the queen dancer of the town.” And then he turned to Miss Winters.
“Grace,” he said, distributing himself with the impartiality he felt his position as a social leader demanded, “you’ve promised me a dance for a long time. Now’s my chance.”
“Why certainly, Jack,” Miss Winters said, with her brilliant smile, and then she took Lawrence’s arm and drew him away, as if otherwise he might escape.
“Take me outdoors!” said Lavinia to Marley. “Those big lamps make it so hot in here.”
Marley was glad to leave, and they went out on to the little piazza of the pavilion. Lavinia stood on the very edge of the steps, and drank in the fresh air eagerly.
“Oh!” she said. “Oh! Isn’t it delicious!”
The darkness lay thick between the trees. The air was rich with the scent of the mown fields that lay beyond the grove. The insects shrilled contentedly. Marley stood and looked at Lavinia, standing on the edge of the steps, her body bent a little forward, her face upturned. She put back her hair again.