When they went out onto the veranda after dinner, his quick ear caught the sound of distant music.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Dancing down at the hotel,” answered Edna.
“Free for all, and leave your guns at the door?” he asked.
And after this, nothing would do, but that they must all stroll down to “look it over,” and Bertie, entering ostensibly to buy a magazine in the lobby, looked in at the ball-room and said it looked “good enough.”
“You and Edna sit out here on the piazza, and I’ll take a few turns with Andrée,” he said. “The music’s not bad and the floor looks good.”
“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Claudine. “They’re not at all a nice sort of people here. I don’t think it’s quite the thing—”
Bertie fell back into Edna’s arms like a log.
“Oh—h—h!” he groaned. “Why?”