awful conviction that everybody (who was anybody) was staring to witness
the Terror of the departments trying to jazz in public for the first
time. A sick, sinking fear lest some of his old colleagues from the
Treasury might be lurking in corners to guy him! Agony as he collected
himself and swayed his body slightly to catch the rhythm of the tune!
Where in heaven's name was the first beat in the bar?

"Walk first," said Sissie professionally.... He was in motion.

"Now!" said Sissie. "_One_, two. _One_, two." Miraculously he was
dancing! It was as though the whole room was shouting: "They're off!"
Sissie steered him.

"Don't look at your feet!" said she sharply, and like a schoolboy he
chucked his chin obediently up.... Then he was steering her. Although
her feet were the reverse of enormous he somehow could not keep off
them; but that girl was made of hardy stuff and never winced. He was
doing better. Pride was puffing him. Yet he desired the music to stop.
The music did stop.

"Thanks," he breathed.

"Oh, no!" said she. "That's not all." The dancers clapped and the
orchestra resumed. He started again. Couples surged around him, and
sometimes he avoided them and sometimes he did not. Then he saw a head
bobbing not far away, as if it were one cork and he another on a choppy
sea. It resembled Eve's head. It was Eve's head. She was dancing with
Oswald Morfey. He had never supposed that Eve could dance these new
dances.