Then one of the introduced—­it was a girl wearing a mask—­took Audrey by the waist and whirled her strongly away and she was lost in the maze.  Audrey’s first impulse was to protest, but she said to herself:  “Why protest?  This is what we’re here for.”  And she gave herself up to the dance.  Her partner held her very firmly, somewhat bending over her.  Neither spoke.  Gyrating in long curves, with the other dancers swishing mysteriously about them like the dancers of a dream, and the music as far off as another world, they clung together in the rhythm and in the enchantment, until the music ceased....  The strong girl threw Audrey carelessly off, and walked away, breathing hard.  And there was something in the strong girl’s nonchalant and curt departure which woke a chord in Audrey’s soul that had never been wakened before.  Audrey could scarcely credit that she was on the same planet as Essex.  She had many dances with men whom she hoped and believed she had been introduced to by Tommy, and no less than seventeen persons of either sex told her in unusual English that they had heard she wanted to learn French and that they would like to teach her; and then she met Musa, the devil.

Musa, with an indolent and wistful smile, suggested the roof.  Audrey was now just one of the throng, and quite unconscious of herself; she fought archly and gaily on the spiral staircase exactly as she had seen others do, and at last they were on the roof, and the silhouettes of other fantastic figures and of cowled chimney pots stood out dark against the vague yellow glow of the city beneath.  While Musa was pointing out the historic landmarks to her, she was thinking how she could never again be the girl who had left Moze on the previous morning.  And yet Musa was so natural and so direct that it was impossible to take him for anything but a boy, and hence Audrey sank back into early girlhood, talking spasmodically to Musa as she used in school days to talk to the brother of her school friend.

“I will teach you French,” said Musa, unaware that he had numerous predecessors in the offer.  “But will you play tennis with me in the gardens of the Luxembourg?”

Audrey said she would, and that she would buy a racket.

“Tell me about all those artists Miss Nickall spoke of,” she said.  “I must know about all the artists, and all the musicians, and all the authors.  I must know all about them at once.  I shan’t sleep until I know all their names and I can talk French.  I shan’t sleep.”

Musa began the catalogue.  When a girl came and chucked him under the chin, he angrily slapped her face.  Then, to avoid complications, they descended.

In the middle of the studio, wearing a silk hat, a morning coat, striped trousers, yellow gloves, and boots with spats, stood a smiling figure.

“Voila Dauphin!” said Musa.

“Musa!” called Monsieur Dauphin, espying the youth on the staircase.  Then he made a gesture to the orchestra:  “Give him a violin!”