In the end, resolution triumphed, as it was sure to do, over the weaker emotions, and he laughed at his fears. He returned her impressive greeting almost mechanically. Give me my pistol and my dagger. 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. ‘Quickly! You must get up. No one is safe. She stared at him. ‘Where was I? Oh yes. But if he speaks—I fear what he may tell. A cool gray light illuminated small portions of the stone floor.
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