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Updated: May 15, 2025
The prim chairs had been piled on the couch by the wall, the table pushed into a corner, and on the vacant space, Elodie, in her old dancer's practising kit, bodice and knickerbockers, once loose but now skin tight to grotesqueness, and Andrew in under vest and old grey flannels, were perspiringly engaged with pith balls in the elementary art of the juggler.
The general position remains what it was before, but to describe how its principle of life and motion seems concentrated below the dancer's waist, and from thence flows in undulating streams, to flash from or to dull, according to her organization, the eyes, and to crisp the child-like feet with which she grasps the carpet, is for me impossible.
She had brought her tambourine, and holding it on high with her left hand or extending it far forward, she tapped it with her fingers or her knuckles, until all its brazen disks tingled and its little bells gave out a sweet and silvery tintinnabulation. The dancer's movements were alternately sinuous, undulatory and gliding.
He merely said slowly and thoughtfully, "Of course the dancer's story is all you really have to go upon. You had better bring her here." "Nothing easier," Billy declared, and thinking a cab as prompt as a telephone he drove briskly off. The hotel held a shock for him. Fritzi Baroff was gone. She had gone the evening before, the clerk reported, consulting the register, and she had paid her bill.
The plain clothes man took a pace forward and touched the dancer's slender wrists, there was a click and she was handcuffed. "Now take her in there," said Matthews pointing to the bar. "There's no exit except by this room. And don't take your eyes off her. You understand? Mr. Okewood will be along presently with a female searcher."
They were so far appeased that they offered me my selection from the private stock. Happily the duke never read anything but the Fliegende Blätter and Jugend, and thus war was averted. Later an automobile agent visited the town at the secret bidding of her Highness but he was so unceremoniously hustled over the frontier that his teeth must have rattled like a dancer's castanets.
The woman she had already seen and in whom she now recognized Marie, the dancer's maid, was descending, a tray in her hand. She placed the tray on the ground without a word, then went up the stairs again and fetched the lamp. She put the lamp down by the tray and, stooping, cut the ropes that fastened Barbara's hands and feet.
"Behold, I have passed a pleasant hour and would reward thee. What thou wilt. Money jewels? speak." From behind the wisp of veil which fluttered in the dancer's quick breathing came the barely whispered answer. "I hear thee not, woman; raise thy voice and be not afraid. I will give thee what thou desirest." "One hour!"
"But how ?" I started, and stopped, for Deolda had dropped beside the chest and pressed her face in the shawl, and I remembered that her mother was dead only a few days ago, and I couldn't ask her how the great dancer came to be in Dennisport in the cabin under the dunes. I tiptoed out, my heart thrilled with romance for the gypsy dancer's daughter.
His face was scarlet now, and his shining eyes looked down on the dancer's throat and breast with a mingling of eagerness and horror. Slowly she raised herself, turned, bent forwards quivering, and presented her face to him, while the women twittered once more in chorus. He still stared at her without moving.
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