it’s open. 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. “I wanted to make love to you. When at first she had realized that he 206 had conducted a sexual affair with a local well-known Florentine courtesan she called him out, accusing him of exposing her to an array of diseases. The boat's sure to run foul o' the bridge; and if she 'scapes stavin' above, she'll be swamped to a sartainty below. After all, why should I care what strangers think?" Ruth asked with sudden heat. Gently each time Ruth drew down the arms. It had rained during the night, and the patch-work pavement was greasy with mud. He had meant to come at his business in a roundabout way, but for that little slip. Not that it would make any difference if he was alive still. She had something of the feeling a Hindoo must experience who has been into surroundings or touched something that offends his caste. She wanted to return his gaze but focused intently on a spot next to and above the brick fireplace, as her music teachers had always taught her to do instead of looking directly at the audience.
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