“What, my coming? Is that behaving bad?”
“No; but why did you say you would not come when I asked you? You have come to meet some one. Who is it?”
“You, Lotta; you.”
“And yet you refused me when I asked you! Well, and now you are here, what are you going to do? You will not dance.”
“I will dance with you, if you will put up with me.”
“No, I will not dance. I am too old. I have given it up. I shall come to Sperl’s no more after this. Dancing is a folly.”
“Lotta, you are laughing at me now.”
“Very well; if you like, you may have it so.” By this time he had brought her back into the room, and was walking up and down the length of the saloon with her. “But it is no use our walking about here,” she said. “I was just going home, and now, if you please, I will go.”
“Not yet, Lotta.”
“Yes; now, if you please.”