I couldn't make her out at all during that dance.

Whenever we came together there was that little air of mockery in every move she made, and yet something in her eyes seemed to invite and to challenge.

The first time we were privileged, by the old-fashioned "caller," to "swing our partners," milady would have given me her finger-tips--only I wouldn't have it that way.

I held her as close as I dared, and--I don't know but I'm a fool--she didn't seem in any great rage over it.

Lord, how I did wish I was wise to the ways of women! The next waltz I couldn't have, because she was to dance it with Mr.
Weaver.