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in my head I shall not know what it feels like to dance

when I can scarcely stand on my feet I shall not know

what it feels like to want Borek because I can not forget Guy. ... I shall never know what it feels like to be old. ... I shall only know what it is like to be at rest."

And she lay motionless in a delicious anticipation of the great peace that was within reach of her hand.

No more insults from Kessel, no more scenes with paul—she would never now see Paul again, and this single thought was bliss to her. Into her mind, even into her body, a great tranquillity flowed; already, in advance, she savored the supreme sweetness of eternal peace.

"I shall drink it now. ..."

She raised herself on her pillows; stretched forth her hand toward the glass. But even this slight movement caused her head to swim once more, so that she sighed, and shut her eyes again, and then, inexplicably, the passive calm of her mind was shattered by the intrusion of a hundred busy, vivid, inconsequential, maddening little thoughts that she could in no way control, for it was as though her brain had suddenly determined to play exasperating tricks upon her, and suddenly, for no apparent reason she had ceased to be the Snow Bird dying, and was nothing more or less than a sickly child postunng in the London Academy of Madame Vanessi's dancing school. She clenched her hands, rebelling, fighting in vain agamst this fearful, frightening inroad upon her peace, but her efforts were of no avail, for then she could think only of circus wagons trailing a dusty road, and of the juggier, her first lover, with his scarred and swarthy face. But soon he was no longer there, nor were his wagons, for she was dancing now triumphantly; it was her début; she was captivating all Naples, and Rosing, to commemorate her success, was buying her a ruby. And then she had quite forgotten Naples, for she was in Paris, laughing with her