He didn’t stay long. Once in the street again he turned on Rosaleen with a scowl.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he thundered, in a voice so loud that all the passersby turned to stare.
“Tell you what?” Rosaleen asked, frightened.
“What the woman did in there? Why didn’t you tell me what blasphemous crimes she committed? Good God! The woman should be flayed alive!”
“Oh, don’t!” entreated Rosaleen. “Please don’t talk so loud—and please don’t say horrible things about Miss Waters!”
“Stop!” he said. “Never mention that name again!”
Rosaleen was glad to escape from him that time, and she never did mention Miss Waters’ name to him again.
III
The time came inevitably when they felt the call to give a party. It was almost simultaneous; they never knew quite whose idea it was. They were all of them filled with enthusiasm, but it was more tremendous for Rosaleen, because it was her first.
They borrowed a phonograph from the “Fine Feathers” girls, and Miss Mell seriously undertook to teach Rosaleen to dance. Every evening after dinner Enid would put on a dance record and Miss Mell, pinning up her skirt so that her feet could the better be observed, would steer Rosaleen through the steps of fox-trot, one-step and waltz. Enid would criticise. But even she admitted that Rosaleen had a gift.