The curve of his shoulders, the very angle of his feet, expressed relief at her apparent obedience. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. She leaned over and kissed his cheek innocently. 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. ’ *** In the cosy little parlour that Pottiswick rarely used, Melusine paced restlessly to and fro. There was nothing on her face to hint of the misery that brimmed her heart this morning.
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