Presently her aunt sighed deeply and looked at the clock. 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. Still—I don’t know whether I quite like—Something ramshackle about those people, Vee. Tell her, that more than once, when about to commit some desperate offence, I have been restrained by her gentle image. But, holy smoke!—the Yale spirit in…. There was another little thing he had to say. After quarter of an hour, she followed. Goodbye. After all, his was a pleasant face, and a pleasant voice, and very likely Annabel had behaved badly. Abruptly the sterner look vanished and she twinkled. "No," replied Hogarth, hastily effacing the sketch. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. She's my mealticket.
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