She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. She danced with two others. ” Annabel had been lying curled up on the lounge, the personification of graceful animal ease. By a sort of instinct.
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