“Well, Lotta,” he said, “since you are so cross with me, I will ask Adela to dance.” And in two minutes he was spinning round the room with Adela Bruhl in his arms.
“Certainly she dances very well,” said Lotta, smiling, to Marie, who had now come back to her seat.
“Very well,” said Marie, who was out of breath.
“And so does he.”
“Beautifully,” said Marie
“Is it not a pity that I should have lost such a partner for ever?”
“Lotta!”
“It is true. Look here, Marie, there is my hand upon it. I will never dance with him again—never—never—never. Why was he so hard upon Herr Crippel last night?”
“Was he hard upon Herr Crippel?”
“He said that Herr Crippel was too old to play the zither; too old! Some people are too young to understand. I shall go home, I shall not stay to sup with you to-night.”