“Yeh.”
“I just love dancing,” Miss Boke thought proper to declare again. “Don't you love it, Mr. Baxter?”
This time he considered his enthusiasm to be sufficiently indicated by a nod. He needed all his breath.
“It's lovely,” she murmured. “I hope they don't play 'Home, Sweet Home' very early at parties in this town. I could keep on like this all night!”
To the gasping William it seemed that she already had kept on like this all night, and he expressed himself in one great, frank, agonized moan of relief when the music stopped. “I sh' think those musicians 'd be dead!” he said, as he wiped his brow. And then discovering that May Parcher stood at his elbow, he spoke hastily to her. “M'av the next 'thyou?”
But Miss Parcher had begun to applaud the musicians for an encore. She shook her head. “Next's the third extra,” she said. “And, anyhow, this one's going to be encored now. You can have the twenty-second—if there IS any!” William threw a wild glance about him, looking for other girls, but the tireless orchestra began to play the encore, and Miss Boke, who had been applauding, instantly cast herself upon his bosom. “Come on!” she cried. “Don't let's miss a second of it; It's just glorious!”
When the encore was finished she seized William's arm, and, mentioning that she'd left her fan upon the chair under the maple-tree, added, “Come on! Let's go get it QUICK!”
Under the maple-tree she fanned herself and talked of her love for dancing until the music sounded again. “Come on!” she cried, then. “Don't let's miss a second of it! It's just glorious!”
And grasping his arm, she propelled him toward the platform with a merry little rush.
So passed five dances. Long, long dances.