She posed before Lane and pirouetted with fancy little steps.
"Say, Dare, won't you teach me a new dance--right from Paris ?" she interposed.

"Something that will put the shimmy and toddle out of biz ?" "Lorna, I don't know what the shimmy and toddle are.

I've only heard of them." "Buried alive, I'll say," she retorted.
Lane bit his tongue to keep back a hot reprimand.

He looked at his mother, who was clearing off the supper table.

She looked sad.