“Letters, my dear,” she exclaimed, in a very deep voice, “Who wants letters?”
The music of a waltz was beginning, and Michael asked Lily if she would dance with him. She looked at Sylvia.
“I don’t think....”
“Oh, what rot, Lily! Of course you can dance.”
Michael gave her a grateful smile.
In a moment Lily had lowered her mask, and they were waltzing together.
“My gad, how gloriously you waltz!” he whispered. “Did we ever dance together five years ago?”
She shrugged her shoulders, and he felt the faint movement tremble through the imponderable form he held.
“Lily, I’ve been looking for you since June,” he sighed.
“You’re breaking step,” she said. Though her mask was down, Michael was sure that she was frowning at him.