Lilian danced well, but with some stiffness, as if through reserve she were unwilling to yield herself to the too brilliant tunes to which the dancing couples whirled ever more gaily, as if unwilling to yield to the too soft harmonies that seemed to strike with an almost amorous languor those who were dancing. Erect like a light stalk, hardly supported at the waist by Lucio's arm, Lilian Temple turned her head a little on one side, as if unwilling to meet her partner's gaze. Lucio Sabini danced to perfection, with that sense of musical rhythm which belongs to all Italians, and with a virile grace that emanated from every act of his; and he fixed his eyes on his lady's face, while he impressed on her, with an arm that scarcely guided her, a rapid or a softer movement. At first surprised and then annoyed to find her without response, and without a tremor, in a dance that he rendered ever more enticing, amongst the crowd of women and men who were nearly all transported, not only by the enjoyment of the dance, but by a more intimate and more secret joy, he suddenly said to her in the rather rough voice of his moments of ardour, which always appeared in contrast to his feelings:
"No, Signor," she murmured smilingly, "on the contrary, I am very fond of it."
"Then you don't care about dancing with me?" he suggested, even more roughly.
"Why do you think that?" she asked, blushing a little, lowering her eyes, with a veil of sadness in her voice.
"I don't know," he replied vaguely, "I don't know; I thought so."
They turned more quickly; he raised her as if he wished to make her fly, and she, even more lightly, scarcely seemed to touch the ground; a fine smile parted her rosy lips, trembling a little at having to dance so fast, and for an instant her deep blue eyes, pure and tender, fixed themselves on the brown, thoughtful eyes of Lucio Sabini. It was only a fleeting smile, the glance of an instant, but, disturbed and moved, he asked her:
She said nothing more. The graceful face recomposed itself into its serenity, and the dance ceased. In silence he offered her his arm, and without even asking her went towards the ballroom door, desirous of leaving. But other couples had left for the corridor, some slowly, others hurriedly, to look for a quiet corner. Lucio, accustomed to command, hid his annoyance with the people he found everywhere; Lilian followed him in silence, without questioning, allowing him to lead her where he willed. In the middle of the corridor Miss May Ford came towards them, as she left a small sitting-room. She was dressed in black satin with a magnificent white lace scarf on her arm and a jewelled flower in her sprinkled hair. She had a gentle but composedly affectionate smile for Lilian.