The White Peacock

And he held her very safe, and his heart was white-hot with love for her.

But he bore her round the room in the dance, and he seemed to sustain all her body with his limbs, his body, and his warmth seemed to come closer into her, nearer, till it would fuse right through her, and she would be as liquid to him, as an intoxication only.

The room was all vague around her, like an atmosphere, like under sea, with a flow of ghostly, dumb movements.

At night, like chickens and curses, she would come home to him, to roost.