‘She’s good at her stuff,’ he said.
‘Do you adore dancing?’
‘Well, I don’t know that I adore it. It’s fun once in a way.’
‘It seems funny not to be mad about a thing if you can do it so beautifully.’
He looked at her with amusement.
She must remember not to ask Roddy if he adored things. His secret life went on in a place where such states of feeling were unknown.
‘Shall we?’ he said at last.
She was not going to be able to do it; the rhythm had gone out of her limbs. He was going to be too good for her and she would stumble and he would get disgusted and not dance with her any more....
After a few moments of anguish, suddenly she could, after all. Long light movements flowed from her body.
Roddy looked down.