But the ground was hallowed on which they trod, and forbidden to him; and though there was probably not a girl or a dancing married woman there who would not have been proud to stand up with Mr.
Caldigate of Folking, there was not one who would have dared to take the hand of a second-class passenger.

So he stood, just within his own boundary, and looked and longed.

Then there was a voice in his ear.

'Do you dance, Mr.Caldigate ?' It was a very pleasant voice, low, but distinct and silvery, infinitely better again than the gown; a voice so distinct and well-managed that it would have been noticed for its peculiar sweetness if coming from any high-bred lady.

He turned round and found her face close to his.