Farandole

"My tastes," he said, still smiling, "incline me to the garishly sunlit side of this planet." And, to tease her and arouse her to combat: "I prefer a farandole to a nocturne; I'd rather have a painting than an etching; Mr. Whistler bores me with his monochromatic mud; I don't like dull colours, dull sounds, dull intellects;[…]."

In another corner fragments of the town band tried hard to assemble a farandole, for this type of folklore seemed appropriate to a nationalist and patriotic celebration.