It was ridiculous, but as he began to play I moved up to Annie, put
my arm around her, and we began to glide round and round on the deck.
Her face was turned away from mine, and looked over my shoulder; if
our eyes had met, I am convinced I must have laughed or wept. It was
half farce, half deadly earnest, and for me as near to hysterics as a
sane man can go. Tubal Cain, that inspired young Plymouth Brother,
was solemn as a judge. As for Annie, I would give a considerable
amount, at this moment, to know what she thought of it. But she
stepped very lightly and easily, and I am not sure I ever enjoyed a
waltz so much. The blue light--that bewitching, intoxicating blue
light--paled on us as we danced. The grey conquered it, and I felt
that when we looked at each other the whole absurdity would strike
us, and I should never be able to face these lovers again without a
furious blush. As the day crept on, I stole a glance at Tubal Cain.
He was scraping away desperately--_with his eyes shut_. For us the
dance had become weariness, but we went on and on. We were afraid to
halt.

Suddenly a string of the violin snapped. We stopped, and I saw Tubal
Cain's hand pointing eastward. A golden ripple came dancing down the
creek, and, at the head of the combe beyond, the sun's edge was
mounting.

"Morning!" said the bridegroom.

"It's all done," said Annie, holding out a hand to me, without
looking up. "And thank you, sir."

"We danced through the grey," I answered; and that was all I could
find to say, as I stepped towards the ladder.