When she espied Lane she nodded and spoke with a smile and made an evident move toward him, but was restrained by Swann.

He led her past Lane and Blair without so much as glancing in their direction.

Lane heard Blair swear.
"Dare, if my mother throws Marg at that--slacker, I'll block the deal if it's the last thing I ever do," he declared, violently.
"And I'll help you," replied Lane, instantly.
"I know Margie hates him." "Blair, your sister is in love with Holt Dalrymple." "No! Not really?
Thought that was only a boy-and-girl affair....

Aha! the nigger music again! Let's find a seat, Dare." Saxophone, trombone, piccolo, snare-drum and other barbaric instruments opened with a brazen defiance of music, and a vibrant assurance of quick, raw, strong sounds.

Lane himself felt the stirring effect upon his nerves.