her lacking in comparison with Fidelia. "I'll dance with you, David," she said and she arose and stepped in front of him and did not look back at him as he followed her to the dancing floor.
Nor did he overtake her; he let her lead him while he watched her as she walked before him. At the edge of the floor, when she turned, he stepped to her quietly and thrust his right arm about her in the old, familiar way and her right hand, slender and smooth and gentle, slipped into his hand.
He felt his heart pounding with his stir of remembrance at this amazing moment; he felt his pulses to the tips of his fingers which clasped hers and he felt, against his pulse, the swifter, frightened racing of her heart.
They took a few steps together and turned once about the floor; then she was breathless and, gasping, she told him, "This is all, David."
"What?"
"It's all I can stand!"
He drew her to the edge of the floor and released her. "Good night, David," she whispered and she slipped from him into the women's rooms; and while he waited, she did not reappear. He learned, later, that she had left by another door and gone home; but still for an hour he remained downstairs and did not go up to the dark, empty suite which had been his and Fidelia's.
