You'll not be
favoured. You ought to be where you can dance."
"Don't care to," he returned. "Bore!"
"But you ought--" She stopped and laughed, waving her fan to direct
his attention behind him. "Look! Over your shoulder!"
He turned, and discovered Miss Lucy Morgan in the act of offering him
a purple toy balloon.
"I found you!" she laughed.
George was startled. "Well--" he said.
"Would you rather 'sit it out?'" Lucy asked quickly, as he did not
move. "I don't care to dance if you--"
"No," he said, rising. "It would be better to dance." His tone was
solemn, and solemnly he departed with her from the grove. Solemnly he
danced with her.
Four times, with not the slightest encouragement, she brought him a
favour: 'four times in succession. When the fourth came, "Look here!"
said George huskily. "You going to keep this up all' night? What do
you mean by it?"
For an instant she seemed confused. "That's what cotillions are for,
aren't they?" she murmured.
"What do you mean: what they're for?"
"So that a girl can dance with a person she wants to?"
George's huskiness increased.
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