She saw herself begin a slow, sinuous dance: and stop suddenly in the middle of a figure, conscious that the dance was not impromptu, her own, but native—the same dance she had quitted but a few minutes gone. It was like the grin of a fiend, and made my flesh creep on my bones. Modern, indeed! She was going to be as primordial as chipped flint. “The Miss Pellissier who was at White’s with us.
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