THIRTY-NINE
Sister Winifrede floated off the back of her cart and began immediately dancing around the raised plinth that edged the fountains. She stepped lively on to the plaza, separated out the MPs, lords and ladies and they became just a part of the crowd and, as she continued, dancers from the Royal Ballet, just out for a picnic from Covent Garden, up the road, swirled on to the plaza. There was a rapturous applause and it was at this precise point the orchestra struck up, for the second time, Stravinsky’s Rite of Spring.
The men separated themselves from the women dancers and encouraged a reciprocal action in the nearby crowd, sorting young and old and slowly, as the music phrasing progressed, a perimeter was formed and the ballet dancers lead the way for the people, the young peop
