The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. A. She breathed into a cloth soaked in rose oil as Sebastian had prescribed, but the smell of roses mixed obscenely with the smell of death and decay, causing her to retch. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. . She could still feel his psychic presence all around her, and she knew he was thinking of her. She took to listening through closed doors. "Ah!" cried Wild, laying down his pen and looking up with a smile of satisfaction. “Look at our affair,” he went on, looking up at her. Their chit-chat stopped when they reached the bench. 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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