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Updated: June 7, 2025


Bent as a bow her lithe figure curved now right, now left, to the lilting cadence. Supple as a silken tube her slender body seemed to drink up the fluid sound. No one could have sworn in that vague light that her feet even so much as touched the ground. She was a wraith! A phantasy! A fluctuant miracle of sound and sense!

In their turn all these concrete products work on the minds and souls of men, modifying old spiritual impulses either by exaltation or degradation, bringing new ones into play; and again these react on the material fabric of human life, causing new combinations, unloosing new forces, that in their turn play their part in the eternal process of building, unbuilding and rebuilding our unstable and fluctuant world.

He at least gave no heed to nearer blandishments, and terror and loathing filled her in equal measure. A faintness a sudden weakness born of her recent journey served for excuse, which Calavius seemed not unwilling to voice, and, surrounded by a guard of slaves, her litter bore her back to his house, through streets littered with drunken men and fluctuant with the figured robes of courtesans.

Do not smother this moment under vain words, but let our hearts quake in a rush of silence sweeping all thoughts to the shoreless delight. You have made me great with your love, though I am but one among the many, drifting in the common tide, rocking in the fluctuant favour of the world.

Along her sensitive, fluctuant nostrils the casual crinkle of distaste and suspicion had deepened suddenly into sheer dilating terror. "Left foot press down hard left pedal!" she began to sing-song to herself. "No! Right foot! right foot!" corrected the Little Girl blunderingly from somewhere close in the grass.

All her countenance was suffused with anger, with shame, and even with hope. She trembled, gazing at me, and fluctuant. "So have I, madam," said I, grimly. "I think," she remarked in quiet tone, "that in a show-down you will best him. I'm sure of it; yes, I know it. You will play the man. You act cool. Good! Watch him very close. He'll give you little grace, this time.

Before his astonished eyes he saw sun-scorched mountain-top, sun-scorched granite, sun-scorched field stubble turned suddenly to shade no cool, translucent miracle of fluctuant greens, but a horrid, plushy, purple dusk under a horrid, plushy, purple sky, with a rip of lightning along the horizon, a galloping gasp of furiously oncoming wind, an almost strangling stench of dust-scented rain.

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