His arm was round her. He led her down the passage. "No, no! We will go
down. And afterwards--"

"Afterwards," she broke in breathlessly, "we will just peep at the
moonlight on the mountains, and then I must come back."

"I will show you something better than the moonlight on the mountains,"
said Sir Eustace.

She did not ask him what he meant, though her whole being was strung to a
tense expectancy. He had brought her once more to the heights of Olympus,
and each moment was full of a vivid life that had to be lived to the
utmost. She lacked the strength to look forward; the present was too
overwhelming. It was almost more than she could bear.

They reached the head of the stairs. His arm tightened about her. She
descended as though upon wings. Passing through the vestibule, her feet
did not seem to touch the ground. And then like a golden maze the
ballroom received them.

Before she knew it, they were among the dancers and the magic of her
dream had merged into reality. She closed her eyes, for the glare of
light and moving figures dazzled her, and gave herself up to the rapture
of that one splendid dance. Her heart was beating wildly, as though it
would choke her. A curious thirst that yet was part of her delight made
her throat burn. A weakness that exulted in the man's supporting strength
held her bound and entranced by such an ecstasy as she had never known
before. She laughed, a gurgling laugh through panting lips. She wondered
whether he realized that she was floating through the air, held up by his
arm alone above the glitter and the turmoil all around them. She wondered