‘You were right, miss. ’ She bit her lip, but her eyes betrayed her. If you have enjoyed it, please consider leaving a review – it does help so much. But some day she would find a place to love: there would be rosy apples on the boughs, and there would be flurries of snow blowing into her face. Wood obeyed. When he returned, it was always the same. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. 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.
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