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Updated: May 25, 2025
She stood quite still, breathing rather quickly from her recent exertions and supported by the close clasp of his hands on hers. Her lips were a little parted, her slight breast rose and fell unevenly, and a faint rose-colour glowed beneath the ivory pallor of her skin. Suddenly Davilof's grip tightened. "You beautiful thing!" he exclaimed huskily. "Magda "
After promising to dance for her she couldn't let her godmother down by crying off at the last moment, when all the world and his wife had come crowding to her house on the strength of that promise. So she bent her head in response to Davilof's contemptuous question. "Yes, I remember," she said quietly. "And you still ask me to play for you?" "I still ask you." Davilof laughed. "You amaze me!
Then, as he still hesitated: "I should like to dance with you really I should, Antoine. You've been so so decent." Davilof's face lit up. He looked radiant like a child that has been patted on the back and told it is good.
It almost seemed as though that grey curtain of fog had been a symbol of the shadow which was beginning to dog her footsteps the shadow which stern moralists designate "unpleasant consequences." First there had been Michael Quarrington's plain and candid utterance of his opinion of her. Then had followed Davilof's headlong wooing and his refusal, when thwarted, to play for her again.
She did not realise or suspect that just those two simple actions of hers the good turn she had done Gillian at some considerable cost to herself in the matter of personal pride, and her quick recognition of the musician's sense of fair play in renouncing his dance with her when he knew the circumstances which had impelled her to promise it these two things had sufficed to turn Davilof's heady, emotional devotion into something more enduring and perhaps more dangerous, an abiding, deeply rooted love and passion for her which was stronger than the man himself.
She was a little sorry for the man trying to make up to him for the pain she knew she had inflicted a moment before, and there was a dangerous sweetness in her voice. Davilof's eyes kindled. He stooped swiftly and kissed her hand. "You are too good to me!" he said huskily.
Davilof had all the charm of his nationality, and June capitulated, retreating to make the necessary arrangements. "I don't fancy Dan Storran will at all approve of the alteration from his usual customs which you've engineered," observed Magda when they were again alone. "Dan Storran?" Davilof's glance flashed over her face, searching, questioning. "The owner of the place.
I promised because Coppertop had croup and they had telephoned down for his mother to go to him. And you wouldn't accompany me unless I gave you this dance. So I promised it." Davilof's eyes held a curiously concentrated expression. "And you did this so that Mrs. Grey could go to her little boy to nurse him?" Magda inclined her head. "Yes," she said simply. "But you hated asking me loathed it!"
Gillian, thrust rather into the position of an onlooker, watched the proceedings with amused eyes her amusement only tempered by the slightly apprehensive feeling concerning Magda of which she had been vaguely conscious from the first moment she had found her in Davilof's company, and which continued to obsess her.
The burning enthusiasm in Davilof's excited tones recalled her abruptly. "Was it good was it really good?" she asked a little shakily. "Good?" he said. "It was superb!" He held out his hands and she laid hers in them without thinking, allowing him to draw her to her feet beside him.
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