” He digested her statement as part threat and part promise. I will no longer be a burthen to those upon whom I have no claim, but compassion. ’ ‘Yes, I’m sorry about that,’ Gerald uttered in a rueful tone. ’ The girl held out her hands. Mountains out of molehills and armies out of windmills; and you'll tire yourself in one direction and shatter yourself in the other. 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.
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