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forcing the others to admire them as they travelled from floor to floor of the house, even knocking on Mrs. Kehoe’s door before they finally departed so that she could see them. Eilis was glad she had not gone with them, but now, in the strange tense silence that developed between Miss McAdam and Sheila Heffernan as they entered the hall, she felt their nervousness and was sorry for them and sorry too that she would have to stay with them for the evening and leave when they wanted to.

The hall was almost empty; once they had paid they went to the ladies’ cloakroom, where Miss McAdam and Sheila Heffernan checked themselves in the mirrors and applied more make-up and lipstick, offering Eilis lipstick and mascara as well. As all three looked in the mirror, Eilis realized that her hair looked terrible. Even if she were never to go to a dance again, she thought, she would have to do something about it. Her dress, which Rose had helped her to buy, also looked terrible. Since she had some money saved, she thought that she should buy some new clothes, but she knew that she would never easily be able to do so alone and that her two companions would be as little use to her as Patty and Diana. The first pair were too formal and stiff in their attire and the second too modern and loud. She determined that once her exams were over in May she would spend time looking at stores and prices and trying to work out what sort of American clothes would suit her best.

When they walked out into the hall and across the bare boards to sit on benches on the opposite side, passing a number of middle-aged couples waltzing to the music, they saw Father Flood, who came and shook hands with them.

“We’re expecting a crowd,” he said. “But they never come when you want them.”

“Oh, we know where they are,” Miss McAdam said. “Getting Dutch courage.”

“Ah, well, it’s Friday night, I suppose.”

“I hope they won’t be drunk,” Miss McAdam said.

“Oh, we have good men on the door. And we hope it will be a good night.”

“If you opened a bar you’d make a fortune,” Sheila Heffernan said.

“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it,” Father Flood replied and rubbed his hands together, laughing as he moved away from them, crossing the dance floor towards the main entrance.

Eilis looked at the musicians. There was a man with an accordion who seemed very sad and wistful as he played the slow waltz and a younger man playing the drums and an older man at the back with a double bass. She noticed some brass instruments on stage and a microphone set up for a singer, so she presumed that when the hall filled there would be more musicians.

Sheila Heffernan fetched a lemon soda for each of them and they quietly sipped their drinks and sat on the bench as the hall filled up. There was still no sign, however, of Patty and Diana and their group.

“They probably found a better dance somewhere else,” Sheila said.

“It would be too much to expect for them to support their own parish,” Miss McAdam added.

“And I heard that some dances on the Manhattan side of the bridge can be very dangerous,” Sheila Heffernan said.

“You know, the sooner this is over and I am at home in my own warm bed the happier I’ll be,” Miss McAdam said.

At first Eilis did not see Patty and Diana but spotted instead a crowd of young people who had come noisily into the hall. A few of the men were dressed in brightly coloured suits with their hair slicked back with oil. One or two were remarkably good-looking, like film stars. Eilis could imagine what they would think of her and her two companions as the new arrivals took in the hall, their gaze shiny, excited, brilliant, full of expectation. And then she saw Diana and Patty among them, both looking radiant, everything about them perfect including their warm smiles.

Eilis would have given anything now to have been with them, dressed like them, to be glamorous herself, too easily distracted by the jokes and smiles of those around her to watch anyone with the same breath-filled intensity as she was watching them. She was afraid to turn to check on Miss McAdam and Sheila Heffernan; she knew that they might share her feelings, but she was aware also how hard they would