Dark little lights glimmered in hers; his narrowed.

The fixed smile died out.
"The dances _you_ want!" she repeated.

"How do you propose to secure them?
By crushing my fingers or dragging me about by my hair?
I want to tell you something, Duane: these blunt, masterful men are very amusing on the stage and in fiction, but they're not suitable to have tagging at heel----" "I won't do any tagging at heel," he said; "don't count on it." "I have no inclination to count on you at all," she retorted, thoroughly irritated.
"You will have it some day." "Oh! Do you think so ?" "Yes....

I didn't mean to speak the way I did.

Won't you give me a dance or two ?" "No.