” He stood up rather close to her and looked into her eyes. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. 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. So far, however, was this submission from producing the desired effect, that it seemed only to lend additional fuel to her displeasure. His face was a little flushed perhaps, and his small, brown eyes were bright.
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