want her to suspect that he had not heard what she said.
"I knew you did. I knew it the moment I shook hands with you. I felt that we were drawn to each other. I am like you; I am just full of magnetism."
Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence.
After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the drug-store and get some soda-water. On the steps they met Annette.
"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you didn't like to sit out d-dances."
He smiled feebly.
"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk better than to dance, it's our own affair."
Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's. When they returned, they went back to their old corner. The chairs, evidently considering them permanent occupants,
assumed an air of familiarity which he resented.
"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the voice of his captor, coyly. "He was the first real lover I ever had. His eyes were big and pensive, just like yours, and there was always that same look in his face that just made me want to stay with him all the time to keep him from being lonely. He was awfully fond of me, but he had to go out West to make his fortune, and he married before he got back."