“The strain would be too great. You’d best remain as you are. I believe the dance is ending.”
“And—and never a word settled about my dress.”
“Are you so much in earnest about it?”
“Indeed, yes. I went through all the pains and penalties of trying it on, stood three weary hours as model, and it was so beautiful my heart longed for it then, and has done so ever since.”
“It’s nothing but imagination. You must look for something else.”
They rose together, and suddenly she put her hand upon his arm, and said in just such a voice as a mermaid might, half laughing, half plaintively:
“I won’t come to dance the New Year in; I’ve nothing fit to come in. And as for the slippers that you sent to me, you can search for them just where you like. I don’t want them, and I won’t wear them. I only want the dress.” And she showed him her foot in its silk stocking, without slipper or other covering.
“Where are your slippers?” said he.
“I’ve hidden them, and you may find them.”
And suddenly he looked at her quite sternly, and he said: “You’ve been to see Mariana.”