For instance, when Leila is taking the cab and first experiencing going out to a ball the cab is described as her first partner, because it was all part of the ball, every little detail was a part of her first big dance and she wanted to experience it all:
“Perhaps her first real partner was the cab. It did not matter that she shared the cab with the Sheridan girls and their brother.”
The same happens with other images, in a growing and progressive dazzling, the beauty of the scenery increases with her happiness:
“Oh dear, how hard it was to be indifferent like the others! She tried not to smile too much; she tried not to care. But every single thing was so new and exciting . . . Meg's tuberoses, Jose's long loop of amber, Laura's little dark head, pushing above her white fur like a flower through snow. She would remember for ever.”
“Dark girls, fair girls were patting their hair, tying ribbons again, tucking handkerchiefs down the fronts of their bodices, smoothing marble-white gloves. And because they were all laughing it seemed to Leila that they were all lovely.”
“"Quite a good floor, isn't it?" drawled a faint voice close to her ear.
"I think it's most beautifully slippery," said Leila.”
All this dazzling is broken when she dances with the fat, old man, who was her first bad impression of the people at the ball:
“It gave her quite a shock again to see how old he was; he ought to have been on the stage with the fathers and mothers. And when Leila compared him with her other partners he looked shabby. His waistcoat was creased, there was a button off his glove, his coat looked as if it was dusty with French chalk.”
Then, during this dance, it happens the so called “moment of epiphany”, when the old man makes her see that all things in life have a brief existence. Then the images, or her perception of the images, start to change and become unattractive:
“Leila gave a light little laugh, but she did not feel like laughing. Was it could it all be true? It sounded terribly true. Was this first ball only the beginning of her last ball, after all? At that the music seemed to change; it sounded sad, sad; it rose upon a great sigh. Oh, how quickly things changed! Why didn't happiness last for ever? For ever wasn't a bit too long.”
“Again the couples paraded. The swing doors opened and shut. Now new music was given out by the bandmaster. But Leila didn't want to dance any more. She wanted to be home, or sitting on the veranda listening to those baby owls. When she looked through the dark windows at the stars they had long beams like wings. . . .”
“She would have to dance, out of politeness, until she could find Meg. Very stiffly she walked into the middle; very haughtily she put her hand on his sleeve.”
Finally, as the moment of epiphany is brief itself, she recovers the joy and the images become beautiful again:
“But in one minute, in one turn, her feet glided, glided. The lights, the azaleas, the dresses, the pink faces, the velvet chairs, all became one beautiful flying wheel. And when her next partner bumped her into the fat man and he said, "Pardon," she smiled at him more radiantly than ever. She didn't even recognize him again.”
