"But trifle with mo no longer. Wood started to his feet. He nodded silently, too full for words. She flew up from her stool and faced the door. 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. “Oh, we are also under the spell,” he declared, “but I think that we are here mainly because it is cheap. " "I wish I could, Joan," returned the carpenter, sadly. “I feel shabby and disgraced.
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