Explore "Twilight Sleep" by Edith Wharton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
"AT least you'll take a turn? " Heuston said; and Nona, yielding, joined the dancers balancing with slow steps about the shining floor.
Dancing meant nothing; it was like breathing; what would one be doing if one weren't dancing? She could not refuse without seeming singular; it was simpler to acquiesce, and lose one's self among the couples absorbed in the same complicated ritual.