She seemed very gay and happy, he
thought. He noticed that she danced oftenest with Melville and a tall, fair
man whom he did not know.
Never had the early part of a ball seemed to Noreen to drag so much as this
one did. She felt that her partners must find her very stupid indeed, for
she paid no attention to what they said and answered at random.
At last almost in a trance of happiness she found herself gliding round the
room with Dermot's arm about her. The band was playing a dreamy waltz, and
her partner danced perfectly. Neither of them spoke. Noreen could not; she
felt that all she wanted was to float, on air it seemed, held close to
Dermot's breast. She gave a sigh when the dance ended. In the interval she
did not want to talk; it was enough to look at his face, to hear his voice.
She hated her next partner when he came to claim her.
But she had two more dances with Dermot before the band struck up "The
Roast Beef of Old England," and the ballroom emptied. At supper he
contrived to secure a small table at which they were alone; so they were
able to talk without constraint. She began to wonder how she had ever
thought him grave and stern or felt in awe of him. For in the gay
atmosphere his Irish nature was uppermost; he was as light-hearted as a
boy, and his conversation was almost frivolous.
During supper Noreen saw Ida watching her across the room, and later on,
when the dancing began again, her friend cornered her.
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