"You've never let me fancy myself at your feet in a sentimental fit."
But it was difficult for him not to assume such an attitude: not to take her hand, both of her hands; not to draw her close.
"If you'd only answer me——" he began.
She stood up.
"Just as when I first saw you!" she cried, angrily.
She controlled herself.
"You shan't force me to quarrel. Come in. Let us dance once."
In a sense he put himself at her feet then.
"I'm afraid to dance with you to-night," he whispered.
She looked at him, her eyes full of curiosity. Her eyes wavered. She turned and started across the gallery. In a panic he sprang after her.