The sing-song ceased, and, as if to take its place, the first notes of the Liebestraum waltz sounded from the rose and jasmine thicket in which the band had been concealed.
"That's a mercy of the Lord, anyhow," laughed some young Philistine. "I thought they'd never stop, or the band begin!"
In a moment the listening circle had changed into an eager hurrying of couples towards the dancing floor.
But young Bertram still sat on the pilaster nursing the old bronze ball, his glad young face strangely sober.
"I think this is our dance," said the Paris frock, in a voice of icy allurement which positively rasped my nerves.
Young Bertram sprang to the ground hastily.
"I beg your pardon! By George, what's that?"
He had upset one of the snake charmer's flat baskets, and there was a general stampede as the occupants slid out.
"Don't be alarmed," I cried, "they always have their fangs drawn, and he will get them back in a moment."
Even as I spoke the hollow quavering of the charmer's gourd flute began, and three snakes stayed their flight to sit up on their tails and sway drowsily to the rhythm.