Ada listened spellbound, amazed by this talent for music, carried back to the gallery of the music-hall where she had heard these very tunes.

At last he struck into a waltz, marking the time with his foot, drawing his breath in rapid jerks to accentuate the bass.
"Must 'ave a turn, if I die fer it," cried Ada, springing to her feet, and, with her arms extended to embrace an imaginary partner, she began to spin round on her toes.

Ada's only talent lay in her feet, and, conscious of her skill, she danced before the hunchback with the lightness of a feather, revolving smoothly on one spot, reversing, advancing and retreating in a straight line, displaying every intricacy of the waltz.

The sight was too much for Jonah, and, dropping the mouth-organ, he seized her in his arms.
"Wot did yer stop for ?" cried Ada.

"We carn't darnce without a tune." "Carn't we ?" said Jonah, in derision, and began to hum the words of the waltz that he had been playing: White Wings, they never grow weary, They carry me cheerily over the sea; Night comes, I long for my dearie-- I'll spread out my White Wings and sail home to thee.
The pair had no equals in the true larrikin style, called "cass dancing", and they revolved slowly on a space the size of a dinner-plate, Ada's head on Jonah's breast, their bodies pressed together, rigid as the pasteboard figures in a peep-show.