"You nevar forget you not one of us, do you?" she questioned in sudden
bitterness of spirit. "Pah! maybe you tink I care what you like. I
dance because I lofe to; because it sets my blood on fire. I no care
for all your airs of fine lady."
"I exceedingly regret you should feel so. I certainly spoke in
kindness and appreciation. Would you permit me to pass?"
The angry young Mexican swept back her scarlet skirts as though in
disdain, her white shoulders uplifted. She did not know why she felt
thus vindictive; to save her soul she could not have told the reason,
yet deep down within her passionate heart there existed a hatred for
this white, silent American, whose slightest word sounded to her like
rebuke. She stood there still, watching suspiciously, smouldering
dislike burning in her black eyes, when Winston suddenly stepped from
the concealing shadows with a word of unexpected greeting. She noticed
the sudden flush sweep into Miss Norvell's cheek, the quick uplifting
of her eyes, the almost instant drooping again of veiling lashes, and,
quickly comprehending it all, stepped promptly forward just far enough
to obtain a clear view of the young man's face.
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