Perhaps it was. Anyway I had risen.
How well do I remember.
It seemed to me that I had known her a long, long time. There was
something about her that was not seduction; but far, far above it.
Somewhere I had seen her, had known her. She was looking and she
was waiting for me. There was something about her that was super
feminine. I thought it then, and I say it now.
Just then her glance came my way. She smiled, and nodded; there
was a note of sadness in her voice.
"Harry Wendel!"
There is no accounting for my action, nor my wonder; she knew me.
Then it was true! I was not mistaken! Somewhere I had seen her. I
felt a vague and dim rush of dreamy recollections. Ah, that was
the answer! She was a girl of dreams and phantoms. Even then I
knew it; she was not a woman; not as we conceive her; she was some
materialisation out of Heaven. Why do I talk so? Ah! this strange
beauty that is woman! From the very first she held me in the
thrall that has no explanation.
"Do we dance?" she asked simply.
The next moment I had her in my arms and we were out among the
dancers. That my actions were queer and entirely out of reason
never occurred to me. There was a call about her beautiful body
and in her eyes that I could not answer. There was a fact between
us, some strange bond that was beyond even passion. I danced, and
in an extreme emotion of happiness.
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