herfriends.Theband,suchasitwas,struckupafewbarsofmusidthedancebegan.Throughthecrowdofungainly,shabbilydressedactors,SibylVanemovedlikeacreaturefromafinerworld.Herbodyswayed,whileshedanced,asaplantswaysier.Thecurvesofherthroatwerethecurvesofawhitelily.Herhandsseemedtobemadeofcoolivory.

    Yetshewascuriouslylistless.Sheshowednosignofjoywhenhereyesrestedohefewwordsshehadtospeak--

    Goodpilgrim,youdyourhandtoomuch,

    Whinerlydevotionshowsinthis;

    Forsaintshavehandsthatpilgrimshandsdotouch,

    Andpalmtopalmisholypalmerskiss--

    withthebriefdialoguethatfollows,werespokeninathhlyartificialmahevoicewasexquisite,butfromthepointofviewoftowasabsolutelyfalse.Itwaswrongincolour.Ittookawayallthelifefromtheverse.Itmadethepassionunreal.

    Draygrewpaleashewatchedher.Heuzzledandanxious.herofhisfriendsdaredtosayanythingtohim.Sheseemedtothemtobeabsolutelyinpetent.Theywerehorriblydisappointed.

    YettheyfeltthatthetruetestofanyJulietisthebalyseofthesedact.Theywaitedforthat.Ifshefailedthere,therewasnothinginher.

    Shelookedcharmingasshecameoutinthemoonlight.Thatcouldnotbedenied.Butthestaginessofheragwasunbearable,andgrewworseasshewenton.Hergesturesbecameabsurdlyartificial.Sheoveremphasizedeverythingthatshehadtosay.Thebeautifulpassage--

    Thoukhemaskofnightisonmyface,

    Elsewouldamaidenblushbepaintmycheek

    Forthatwhichthouhastheardmespeakto-night--

    wasdeclaimedwiththepainfulprecisionofaschoolgirlwhohasbeentaughttorecitebysomesed-rate