She smiled for the first time; then the light faded from her eyes, and she swaggered back to her seat, the same awkward, lumpish-looking peasant she had been ere the flame had been ignited.
"Well? What do you say?" asked Ferrars, from behind Grace's shoulder.
"Nothing. She has taken away my breath."
The flood-gates were burst. "Tremendous! Astonishing! Immense! Did you ever see anything like that bend of body? There is no one can touch her!" and so on poured the tide of frothy admiration round the room.
"They see nothing but an exhibition of agility," said Ferrars. "You see something more than this, I am sure?"
"Yes." She waited a minute, then added, "It is a physical illustration of Owen Meredith's line, 'Genius does what it must. Talent does what it can.' She could no more help dancing as she does than a tornado can help blowing. I am not quite sure that I like a tornado. I think I prefer a gentler breeze. But one is carried away by the tempest while it lasts."
"And what do you want more? To be 'carried away,' even for a few minutes, and by a dancing-girl, is rare in life. I tell you that this creature has an individuality that is all her own. I have seen much more wonderful dancing in Spain, but never any that had this curious histrionic character."
"You have been in Spain much?"
"Yes, at one time. I hope Carmencita will sing some national airs presently. She never does so in public. I hear her singing and dancing together are extraordinary. Get our host to ask her."
There was a movement at the door at this moment, and a fat, fair woman, with a sweet smile, laden with jewels, entered. Gunning went forward with his mother, and then the magnificent George Ray strode down the room and greeted the new guest with effusion.