dainty arching of the foot! You felt there could be no
questioning her right to the tyranny of Vere Street.

Suddenly she stopped short, and disengaged herself from her companion.

'Oh, I sy,' she said, 'this is too bloomin' slow; it gives me the
sick.'

That is not precisely what she said, but it is impossible always to
give the exact unexpurgated words of Liza and the other personages of
the story, the reader is therefore entreated with his thoughts to
piece out the necessary imperfections of the dialogue.

'It's too bloomin' slow,' she said again; 'it gives me the sick. Let's
'ave somethin' a bit more lively than this 'ere waltz. You stand over
there, Sally, an' we'll show 'em 'ow ter skirt dance.'

They all stopped waltzing.

'Talk of the ballet at the Canterbury and South London. You just wite
till you see the ballet at Vere Street, Lambeth--we'll knock 'em!'

She went up to the organ-grinder.

'Na then, Italiano,' she said to him, 'you buck up; give us a tune
that's got some guts in it! See?'

She caught hold of his big hat and squashed it down over his eyes. The
man grinned from ear to ear, and, touching the little catch at the
side, began to play a lively tune such as Liza had asked for.

The men had fallen out, but several girls had put themselves in
position, in couples, standing face to face; and immediately the music
struck up, they began. They held up their skirts on each side, so as
to show their feet, and proceeded to go through the difficult steps
and motions of the dance. Liza was right; they could not have done it
better in a trained ballet. But the best dancer of them all was Liza;
she threw her whole soul into it; forgetting the stiff bearing which
she had thought proper to the waltz, and casting off its elaborate
graces, she gave herself up entirely to the present pleasure.
Gradually the other couples stood aside, so that Liza and Sally were
left alone. They paced it carefully, watching each other's steps, and
as if by instinct performing corresponding movements, so as to make
the whole a thing of symmetry.

'I'm abaht done,' said Sally, blowing and puffing. 'I've 'ad enough of
it.'

'Go on, Liza!' cried out a dozen voices when Sally stopped.

She gave no sign of having heard them other than calmly to continue
her dance. She glided through the steps, and swayed about, and
manipulated her skirt, all with the most charming grace imaginable,
then, the music altering, she changed the st