He turned to Mrs. ’ Baring his teeth in a smile of triumph that was every bit an animal snarl, and leaping up onto the seat of the pew he was in, he jumped hazardously to the next. She did not know herself. For whom had its sharp point been intended? Valade? Or perhaps his wife now that the girl had word of their marriage. The priest normally assigned the duty in the Iovelli family had fled days before from the chapel. “Where were you?” He inquired, rubbing her shoulders. “Then why the devil,” he demanded, “do you let me stand you dinners and the opera—and why do you come to a cabinet particuliar with me?” He became radiant with anger. Joyous, she felt the need of physical expression; and her body began to sway sinuously, to glide and turn and twist about the room. Good riddance to bad rubbish.
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