She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. ‘Yes, but I do not know why he should wish to do so, and therefore I cannot permit that he interferes. ‘Dieu du ciel, but answer me!’ Martha’s eyes were swimming again, and she reached out. 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. Generations had been born and died in between the times she had gotten laid. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator.
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