The latter haughtily returned his salutation, and flung himself, as if exhausted, into a chair. 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. . . The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance.
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