George became conscious of strange feelings within him: an exaltation of soul, tender, but indefinite, and seemingly located in the upper part of his diaphragm.
The stopping of the music came upon him like the waking to an alarm clock; for instantly six or seven of the calculating persons about the entry-ways bore down upon Miss Morgan to secure dances.

George had to do with one already established as a belle, it seemed.
"Give me the next and the one after that," he said hurriedly, recovering some presence of mind, just as the nearest applicant reached them.

"And give me every third one the rest of the evening." She laughed.

"Are you asking ?" "What do you mean, 'asking' ?" "It sounded as though you were just telling me to give you all those dances." "Well, I want 'em!" George insisted.
"What about all the other girls it's your duty to dance with ?" "They'll have to go without," he said heartlessly; and then, with surprising vehemence: "Here! I want to know: Are you going to give me those--" "Good gracious!" she laughed.

"Yes!" The applicants flocked round her, urging contracts for what remained, but they did not dislodge George from her side, though he made it evident that they succeeded in annoying him; and presently he extricated her from an accumulating siege--she must have connived in the extrication--and bore her off to sit beside him upon the stairway that led to the musicians' gallery, where they were sufficiently retired, yet had a view of the room.
"How'd all those ducks get to know you so quick ?" George inquired, with little enthusiasm.
"Oh, I've been here a week." "Looks as if you'd been pretty busy!" he said.