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. But in that reservation it may be she went a little beyond the converse of his view. ‘I have told you, a whip it is nothing. “He must never know,” she would whisper to herself, “he must never know.
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