"Come on and tell us, Alice.
Who is it you were holding this chair for ?" "Never mind." "Well, all I've got to do is to sit here till he comes back; then I'll see who it is." "He may not come back before you have to go." "Guess you got me THAT time," Malone admitted, laughing as he rose.
"They're tuning up, and I've got this dance.

I AM coming around to see you some evening." He moved away, calling back over his shoulder, "Honestly, I am!" Alice did not look at him.
She had held her tableau as long as she could; it was time for her to abandon the box-trees; and she stepped forth frowning, as if a little annoyed with the absentee for being such a time upon her errand; whereupon the two chairs were instantly seized by a coquetting pair who intended to "sit out" the dance.

She walked quickly down the broad corridor, turned into the broader hall, and hurriedly entered the dressing-room where she had left her wraps.
She stayed here as long as she could, pretending to arrange her hair at a mirror, then fidgeting with one of her slipper-buckles; but the intelligent elderly woman in charge of the room made an indefinite sojourn impracticable.

"Perhaps I could help you with that buckle, Miss," she suggested, approaching.

"Has it come loose ?" Alice wrenched desperately; then it was loose.