"It is—it is."
"Did we once play together in a garden?"
"Yes—yes."
Back swept the years, and the wonderful happiness began again.
In the shining ballroom the music rose and fell and swelled again into ecstasy as he held her white young lightness in his arm and they swayed and darted and swooped like things of the air—while the old Duchess and Lord Coombe looked on almost unseeing and talked in murmurs of Sarajevo.