a black night wind was up, and the library faced it steadily

Every fixture rattled.  Librarians wearing black velvet led users downstairs.  The chimney roared.  The gramaphone stood open, a record on it–”the arm with the needle bent back like a cobra ready to strike,” said Eliza as she passed through the lounge with a tray.  Then the music started, users and librarians came together and the dance began.