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. “Okay. She felt herself falling, her bile rising in her 61 throat, the cold wind spinning around her like vertigo. Not content with this, the assailants set fire to the house in half-a-dozen other places; and the progress of the flames was rapid and destructive. It is foolish, she murmured to herself, foolish. ” “There’s Miss Garvice.
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