And then I'll pay off old scores. It is no crime, none at all. ’ ‘The word of whom?’ came scoffingly from the pretty lips. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. 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.
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