“Now then, Munroe,” cried Rory, when it was over, “You’re such hot stuff at billiards—let’s see what you can do on the light fantastic.”
“Yes, do, Mr. Munroe,” and Concha stood swaying before him, flushed and provocative.
“I’m afraid ... I don’t ... well, if you’ve got a tango here ... I used to try my hand at it in Africa.”
“Let’s see ... put on the Tango de Rêve, Anna. Got it?”
David hesitated a moment; then, as if coming to a sudden resolution, he clasped her, and stood waiting for the bar to end; then they began to dance, and their souls seemed to leave their bodies, leaving them empty to the tune, which gradually informed them till they and it were one; a few short steps, then a breathless halt, a few more steps, another halt ... then letting themselves go a little, then another halt; their faces tense and mask-like ... truly a strange dance, the Tango, speaking the broken, taciturn, language of passion:
Thanked be fortune: it hath been otherwise:
Twenty times better; but once especial
In thin array: after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown did from her shoulders fall,
And she me caught in her arms long and small....