I can't tell you what the dance was.

I had seen the Russian ballet just before the war, and one of the men in it reminded me of this man.

But the dancing was the least part of it.

It was neither sound nor movement nor scent that wrought the spell, but something far more potent.

In an instant I found myself reft away from the present with its dull dangers, and looking at a world all young and fresh and beautiful.