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. She knew the story only imperfectly, and followed it now with a passionate and deepening interest. "Come along, Blueskin. He lunched in the Legal Club in Chancery Lane, and met Ogilvy. His eyes swept the company, and fell upon Melusine with a glare.
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