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. ’ A thought caught in her mind and she turned quickly to her old nurse. Get it off your soul. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. " "He shuddered when he drank. ” She paused.
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