“I won’t have you quarrelling and crying in the Avenue,” he said. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year. “You don’t know him, Anna,” she said with a little shudder, “or you would not talk like that. 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. “My heart, my dove, I only want to heal you. Hours were spent in preparation for the event.
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