" The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. 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. ‘Well she does,’ insisted Miss Froxfield impenitently, and turned to Gerald. This incredible scene robbed him of the sense of locomotion. \" They talked until midnight most nights. ’ ‘What husband?’ ‘Precisely. As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats.
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