The road was smooth and free of ice, the moonshine thin and bright over the meadows and the leafless trees.

I was now honestly done with the purgatory of the covered cart; I was close to my great-uncle's; I had no more fear of Mr.Dudgeon; which were all grounds enough for jollity.

And I was aware, besides, of us two as of a pair of tiny and solitary dolls under the vast frosty cupola of the midnight; the rooms decked, the moon burnished, the least of the stars lighted, the floor swept and waxed, and nothing wanting but for the band to strike up and the dancing to begin.

In the exhilaration of my heart I took the music on myself-- 'Merrily danced the Quaker's wife, And merrily danced the Quaker.' I broke into that animated and appropriate air, clapped my arm about Dudgeon's waist, and away down the hill at a dancing step! He hung back a little at the start, but the impulse of the tune, the night, and my example, were not to be resisted.

A man made of putty must have danced, and even Dudgeon showed himself to be a human being.