“He’s got good taste, you know. The room was worse than pokey, it was shabby; and the view from the window, of chimney pots and slate roofs, wholly uninspiring. ” She lied. I sat within a few feet of him. 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. It was if the world had blinked out for a moment. "And now, in return for your liberality, I'll inform you of a secret with which it is important you should be acquainted.
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