I've done my best to brighten up this house party." Dysart, really discountenanced, but not showing it, lighted a cigarette and asked pleasantly if the water was agreeable.
"It's magnificent," said Duane; "it was like diving into a lake of iced Apollinaris.

Geraldine, why on earth don't you build some bath houses on the Gray Waters ?" Perhaps she had not heard his question.

She began to talk very animatedly to Rosalie about several matters of no consequence.

Dysart rose, stretched his sunburned arms with over-elaborate ease, tossed away his cigarette, picked up his tennis bat, and said: "See you at luncheon.
Are you coming, Rosalie ?" "In a moment, Jack." She went on talking inconsequences to Geraldine; her husband waited, exchanging a remark or two with Duane in his easy, self-possessed fashion.
"Dear," said Rosalie at last to Geraldine, "I must run away and dry my hair.

How did we come out at tennis, Jack ?" "All to the bad," he replied serenely, and nodding to Geraldine and Duane he entered the house, his young wife strolling beside him and twisting up her wet hair.
Duane seated himself and crossed his lank legs, ready for an amiable chat before he retired to dress for luncheon; but Geraldine did not even look toward him.