“I think,” he said, “I was a little too mystical about beauty the other day. Only au revoir. She calmed herself, breathing deeply. He heard the door close; and in a little while he fell into a doze; and there came a dream filled with broken pictures, each one of which the girl dominated. We dine at seven-thirty. 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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