"I don't dance at public balls," he said disapprovingly.
"Why not?" asked Bobby, in surprise.
"Hardly the thing. A person in my position, you know—"
"You mean because of the Honorable? How stupid! Let's pretend you aren't one just for to-night!"
"But I don't dance these dances, you see."
"That doesn't matter; I'll teach you."
"Really, now, I can't make a spectacle of myself."
"Nobody wants you to. We'll practise out here in the loggia. Come ahead!"
He was seized by two small, determined hands and drawn this way and that, apparently without the slightest method.
"But I haven't the vaguest idea what to do with my feet," he protested helplessly.