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           AmyandherPoledistinguishedthemselvesbyequalenthusiasmbutmoregracefulagility,andLauriefoundhimselfinvoluntarilykeepingtimetotherhythmicriseandfallofthewhiteslippersastheyflewbyasindefatigablyasifwinged.WhenlittleVladimirfinallyrelinquishedher,withassurancesthathewas‘desolatedtoleavesoearly’,shewasreadytorest,andseehowherrecreantknighthadbornehispunishment.

           Ithadbeensuccessful,foratthree-and-twenty,blightedaffectionsfindabalminfriendlysociety,andyoungnerveswillthrill,youngblooddance,andhealthyyoungspiritsrise,whensubjectedtotheenchantmentofbeauty,light,music,andmotion.Lauriehadawaked-uplookasherosetogiveherhisseat,andwhenhehurriedawaytobringhersomesupper,shesaidtoherself,withasatisfiedsmile,"Ah,Ithoughtthatwoulddohimgood!"

           "YoulooklikeBalzac’s‘FemmePeinteParElle–Meme’,"hesaid,ashefannedherwithonehandandheldhercoffeecupintheother.

           "Myrougewon’tcomeoff."andAmyrubbedherbrilliantcheek,andshowedhimherwhiteglovewithasobersimplicitythatmadehimlaughoutright.

           "Whatdoyoucallthisstuff?"heasked,touchingafoldofherdressthathadblownoverhisknee.

           "Illusion."

           "Goodnameforit.It’sveryprettynewthing,isn’tit?"

           "It’sasoldasthehills.

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