近期热门的优选书刊《飘》，轻松有趣温柔的治愈你(70)

In place of the curved sofa she had liked so much was a hard bench that was none too comfortable. She sat upon it with as good grace as possible, wishing her skirts were in such condition that she could dance.It would be so good to dance again.But, of course, she could do more with Frank in this sequestered alcove than in a breathless reel and she could listen fascinated to his talk and encourage him to greater flights of foolishness.
But the music certainly was inviting. Her slipper patted longingly in time with old Levi"s large splayed foot as he twanged a strident banjo and called the figures of the reel.Feet swished and scraped and patted as the twin lines danced toward each other, retreated, whirled and made arches of their arms.
“‘Ole Dan Tucker he got drunk—"
（Swing yo"padners！）
‘Fell in de fiah an"he kick up a chunk！"
（Skip light, ladies！）”
After the dull and exhausting months at Tara it was good to hear music again and the sound of dancing feet, good to see familiar friendly faces laughing in the feeble light, caviling old jokes and catchwords, bantering, rallying, coquetting. It was like coming to life again after being dead.It almost seemed that the bright days of five years ago had come back again.If she could close her eyes and not see the worn made-over dresses and the patched boots and mended slippers, if her mind did not call up the faces of boys missing from the reel, she might almost think that nothing had changed.But as she looked, watching the old men grouped about the decanter in the dining room, the matrons lining the walls, talking behind fanless hands, and the swaying, skipping young dancers, it came to her suddenly, coldly, frighteningly that it was all.as greatly changed as if these familiar figures were ghosts.