There is strength in you— misguided. Her cheeks were aflame. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. 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. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. To him she had always appeared as a mere pleasure-loving parasite—something quite insignificant. "By my shalvation, boy," he added, fiercely, "if you don't take your hande off my peard, I'll sthrangle you.
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