“Why do you hate me again, my love?” He seemed to brighten, feeding upon the intensity of her emotion. "'Odd's-my-life!—what's that?" he cried, greatly alarmed. Ramage leaned over the gate at Ann Veronica’s side, and for a moment there was silence. Ennison, if at all,” Anna declared calmly. “Quite on my own,” she said. 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. She was trembling a little.
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