Arnault and a few others.
She soon succumbed, with visible agitation, as a thunderous peal
echoed along the sky. Madge danced on with Graydon as if nothing had
occurred. He only felt that her form grew a little more tense, and saw
that her eyes glowed with suppressed excitement.
"Are you not afraid?" he asked, as soon as his voice could be heard.
"See, the ladies are scattering or huddling together, while many look
as if the world were coming to an end."
"The world is coming to an end to some every day," she replied.
"That remark is as tragic as it is trite, Madge. What could have
suggested it?"
"Trite remarks cannot have serious causes."
"Account for the tragic phase, then."
"I'm in no mood for tragedy, and commonplace does not need
explanation."
"What kind of mood are you in to-night, Madge? You puzzle me;" and he
looked directly into her eyes. At the moment she was facing a window,
and a flash of strange brilliancy made every feature luminous. It
seemed to him that he saw her very soul, the spirit she might become,
for it is hard to imagine existence without form--form that is in
harmony with character. The crash that followed was so terrific that
they paused and stood confronting each other.
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