As Bressant bowed to Cornelia, who courtesied grandly in return, the
band struck up a waltz, which seemed to be at once reflected in her face
and manner. She was particularly sensitive to musical impressions, and
instinctively looked up to Bressant's face for sympathy, forgetting at
the moment that his infirmity would probably debar him from sharing her
enjoyment. However that might be, he was certainly not indifferent to
the silent music of her beauty; he was gazing down upon her with an
intensity which caused her to droop her eyes, and draw an uneven breath
or two. There was in him all a man's fire, strangely mingled with the
freshness of a boy.
"Take my arm," said he, offering it to her. After an instant's
hesitation, more mental, however, than physical, she laid her graceful
hand within it, and they moved toward the dancing-room.
But at the instant of contact an electric pulsation seemed to pass
through Cornelia's blood, imbuing it with a powerful ichor, alien to
herself, yet whose potency was delicious to her. She fancied, also, that
she herself went out in the same way to her companion, establishing a
magnetic interchange of personalities, so that each felt and shared the
other's thoughts and emotions.
They now stood in the principal dancing-hall, where several couples, who
had already taken the floor, were revolving with various degrees of
awkwardness.
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