Is it your desire to return to the hall ?" She shook her head positively.

"A cheap, gaudy show, all bluster and vulgarity.

Even the dancing is a mere parody.

I early tired of it." "Then let us choose the better part, and sit here on the bench, the night our own." He conducted her across the porch to the darkest corner, where only rifts of light stole trembling in between the shadowing vines, and there found convenient seats.

A moment they remained in silence, and he could hear her breathing.
"Have you truly been at the hall," she questioned, "or were you merely fibbing to awaken my interest ?" "I truly have been," he answered, "and actually have danced a measure with the fair guest of the evening." "With Phoebe Spencer! And yet you dare pretend now to retain an interest in me?
Lieutenant Brant, you must be a most talented deceiver, or else the strangest person I ever met.