She would have liked to hang back； but she was more ashamed to
retreat from him than to expose herself to the crowd or to dare
the swingboat。 His eyes laughed； and standing before her with
his sharp； sudden figure； he set the boat swinging。 She was not
afraid； she was thrilled。 His colour flushed； his eyes shone
with a roused light； and she looked up at him； her face like a
flower in the sun； so bright and attractive。 So they rushed
through the bright air； up at the sky as if flung from a
catapult； then falling terribly back。 She loved it。 The motion
seemed to fan their blood to fire； they laughed； feeling the
flames。
After the swingboats； they went on the roundabouts to calm
down； he twisting astride on his jerky wooden steed towards her；
and always seeming at his ease； enjoying himself。 A zest of
antagonism to the convention made him fully himself。 As they sat
on the whirling carousal； with the music grinding out； she was
aware of the people on the earth outside； and it seemed that he
and she were riding carelessly over the faces of the crowd；
riding for ever buoyantly； proudly； gallantly over the upturned
faces of the crowd； moving on a high level； spurning the mon
mass。
When they must descend and walk away； she was unhappy；
feeling like a giant suddenly cut down to ordinary level； at the
mercy of the mob。