He came closer; she didn't know whether he drew her to him or whether he came closer. A queer, delicious feeling, a new feeling, thrilled through her body to her mouth, to her finger-tips. Her head swam slightly. She kept her eyes open by an effort.
He gave her back her hands. She remembered. They had been talking about her playing.
"I knew," she said, "it was bad in places."
"I don't care whether it's bad or good. It's you. The only part of you that can get out. You're very bad in places, but you do something to me all the same."
"What do I do?"
"You know what you do."
"I don't. I don't really. Tell me."
"If you don't know, I can't tell you—dear—"
He said it so thickly that she was not sure at the time whether he had really said it. She remembered afterwards.
"There's Dan," she whispered.