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Lucy jammed her foot down onto Mark McCloskey’s forehead. She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. Into this hole in the wall and out of it the native stream flowed from sunrise to sunset, when the stream mysteriously ceased. At noon the doctor himself arrived. Jack had well-nigh fallen too. Anna, who had sung the first verse of her song, looked around the house, a little surprised at the absence of the applause which had never yet failed her. Capes became rigid and adhesive. 9.
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