They crossed the street, and entering the front door passed up the outside stone steps of the flat. Then I tucked it nice and snug under the saddle-bag. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. It goes to my heart to disappoint you, but this thing must not be. 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. “How odd that I should almost spring into your arms just on my doorstep!” she remarked gaily.
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