"She told me I was too stout to dance well, but I didn't mind that.

Stout or not, she will be lucky to have even me to dance with at the rate she's going.

Let's drown our mortification in lemonade." "Poor Elfreda," sympathized Grace.

"I wish I could help you, but, honestly, I feel as though it would be hardly fair to myself to make further advances in that direction." "Don't do it," advised Elfreda, quickly, handing Grace a cup of fruit lemonade.

"I'll manage to steer her through this dance.