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. "You are my prisoner. Finally she decided upon a step that had always seemed reasonable to her, but that hitherto she had, from motives too faint for her to formulate, refrained from taking. To return. “I will tell you the truth. Slowly a mirthless and very unpleasant smile dawned upon his face. ” “But how can I help it? How can I keep silence?” “Please!” she insisted.
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