But his words were borne away by the driving wind. 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. “You see, father,” she said, “it isn’t only this affair of the dance. "No, lad," said McClintock, his tone becoming kindly. " "Don't listen to him, father," cried Thames, unconscious of what was passing; "there are plenty of people outside. ” “Oh.
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