noon
In their midst I lost the slim figure that had preceded me , until she mounted the platform and swept before the footlights a stately courtesy . And there , in the smoky little tent , Ellen Ember began to dance , with her quite surprising grace -- as Pierrette might have danced in Carnival . It was the charming , faery measure which she had danced for me in Miss Liddy 's dining-room ; and as she had sung to me then , so now , in a sweet piping voice , she sang her incongruous little song : -- O Day of wind and laughter , A goddess born are you , Whose eyes are in the morning Blue -- blue ! The slumbrous noon your body is , Your feet are the shadow 's flight , But the immortal soul of you Is Night . It seemed to me that I sat for hours in that hot little place , cut off from the world , watching . Again and again , to the brass blare of some hoiden tune , she set the words of the lyric that `` she liked the feel of , '' and she danced on and on . And when at last the music shattered off , and she ceased , and ran behind a screening canvas , somehow I made my way forward through the crowd that was clapping hands and calling her back , and I gained the place where she stood .