Those giant gestures of Man, that made the high statues
and the strokes of war, tossed and tormented all their limbs.
Silently as they strolled and stood they were bursting like
batteries with an animal magnetism.
"And now," cried Moon quite suddenly, stretching out a hand on each side,
"let's dance round that bush!"
"Why, what bush do you mean?" asked Rosamund, looking round with a sort
of radiant rudeness.
"The bush that isn't there," said Michael--"the Mulberry Bush."
They had taken each other's hands, half laughing and quite ritually;
and before they could disconnect again Michael spun them all round,
like a demon spinning the world for a top. Diana felt, as the circle of
the horizon flew instantaneously around her, a far aerial sense of the ring
of heights beyond London and corners where she had climbed as a child;
she seemed almost to hear the rooks cawing about the old pines on Highgate,
or to see the glowworms gathering and kindling in the woods of Box Hill.
The circle broke--as all such perfect circles of levity must break--
and sent its author, Michael, flying, as by centrifugal force, far away
against the blue rails of the gate. When reeling there he suddenly
raised shout after shout of a new and quite dramatic character.
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