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I really knew nothing about the dancing habits of the Scottish. But I wanted to help. “I could teach them Indian folk dances,” I offered, scrounging my mind for school dances in gaudy garments.”Well, I’m not sure that they would be complex enough for competitions,” she said. Pursing her lips, she blushed a dark, deep red. I knew I had said something wrong, but it took me a few days to understand the reason for Miss Manson’s disapproval and discomfort. She blushed a beetroot red because I had unwittingly questioned the core belief of the school: British was Better.
