I've promised a dozen men, but it doesn't matter." He said in a low voice, "You darling!" and made her a very wonderful bow, and she dropped him a very low, very slow, very marvellous courtesy, and, rising, laid her fingers on his embroidered sleeve.

Then turning, head held erect, and with a certain sweet insolence in the droop of her white lids, she looked at the men around her.
Gray said in a low voice to Dysart: "That's as much as to admit that they're engaged, isn't it?
When a girl doesn't give a hoot what she does to other men, she's nailed, isn't she ?" Dysart did not answer; Rosalie, passing on Grandcourt's arm, caught the words and turned swiftly, looking over her shoulder at Geraldine.
But Geraldine and Duane had already forgotten the outer world; around them the music swelled; laughter and voice grew indistinct, receding, blending in the vague tumult of violins.

They gazed upon each other with vast content.
"As a matter of fact," said Duane, "I don't remember very well how to dance a minuet.

I only wanted to be with you.

We'll sit it out if you're afraid I'll make a holy show of you." "Oh, dear," said Geraldine in pretty distress, "and I let you beguile me when I'm dying to do this minuet.