“I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. ” She departed from the couch and went upstairs to find John. His eyebrows arched, knotting in the middle. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. “Then turn round and go back there,” she directed. ” She tried to plan her proceedings in detail. Edward Bribble stood between them with an open book. She understood. On the way he confessed. 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. Her eyes were lit with a gleam of humour. Do not oppose it, and I will serve you.
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