At last the silence (which did not seem a silence to me, it was so full of new and conflicting thoughts,) was broken by the recommencement of the music in the other room.

He had taken a book in his hands and was turning over its pages restlessly.
"Why have you not danced ?" he said at last, in a voice that still showed agitation.
"I have not danced because I can't, because I never have been taught." "You?
not taught?
it seems incredible.

But let me teach you.

Will you?
Teach you! you would dance by intention.

And would love it--madly--as I did years ago.