"His hands betray him," she said to herself, as she was introduced.
They were in fact shielded from view as he bowed, one with the thumb tucked in the corner of his trousers pocket, the other behind his back.
"He is hiding something," flashed through her mind intuitively.

And, when she analyzed it, she felt still that there was nothing fanciful about the idea.

It was simply a little unconscious piece of evidence.
From the start the cabaret was pretty rapid.

When they entered, two of the performers were rendering the Apache dance with an abandon that improved on its namesake.

Scarcely had they finished when the orchestra began all over again, and a couple of diners from the tables glided past them on the dancing floor, then another couple and another.
"Tanguez-vous ?" bowed Braden, leaning over to Stella.
"Oui, je tanguerai," she nodded, catching the spirit of the place.
It left Warrington and Constance at the table with Vera, and as Constance looked eagerly after the graceful form of the little actress, Warrington asked, "Will you dance!" "No, thank you," she said, trying him out.