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’ The shift threw Melusine’s attention off the errant major for the moment. The bungalows and stores were built of heavy bamboo and gum-wood; sprawly, one-storied affairs; for the typhoon was no stranger in these waters. 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. That’s about the beginning.
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This video was uploaded to waterscolumns.info on 26-09-2024 21:33:37