Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. 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. "As sure as one reasonably can be. “I will not intrude upon you further. ’ ‘Dieu du ciel! But this is catastrophe. Lucy acted the part of savoring the end of the meal, but it was difficult.
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