He did, for just then the hotel orchestra, a fine one, struck up a popular air.
“Music, too!” exclaimed Mona. “All the comforts of home, and none of the cares. This is just too perfect! Billy Boy, you’re a wonder!”
“To think of it being Bill’s hotel!” said Daisy, in an awed voice.
“To think of our being here without any bills,” put in Roger Farrington. “That’s the best part of it. It’s like being given the freedom of the city!”
“The freedom of the country,” Adele corrected; “that’s much better.”
The orchestra, on a platform, gorgeous in scarlet, gold-braided coats, began a fascinating fox-trot.
Kit Cameron looked across the table at Patty, with a nod of invitation.
Smiling assent, Patty rose, flinging her napkin on the table. Kit came round to her, and in a moment they were dancing to the music that had called them. Skilfully, Kit guided her among the maze of tables and chairs, for they were the two best dancers in the crowd, and they had no difficulty in avoiding obstacles.
“Have a turn, Adele?” asked Bill, laying down his fork.
“No, thank you; it’s all very well for the girls, but your chaperon is too nearly middle-aged for such capers.”