“I’ll get something better for you than that,” said the Colonel, rising. “Wait here for a minute or two. I won’t be gone long and I’ll bring you back somebody worth having for a partner.”
She smiled faintly at him, and he turned, passed through the circling whirl of dancers, and stepped out on the balcony again.
She Smiled Faintly at Him
By an adjacent window he saw two masculine figures and smelt the pungent odor of the superior tobacco with which they were beguiling the passing hour. Rion Gracey’s face, gilded by the light of the window, was toward him. The well-shaped back which the other presented to his gaze he recognized as that of Jerry Barclay. He bore down upon them, clapping one hand upon Barclay’s shoulder, with the words,
“Look here, you fellows, I want partners for a girl in there.”
Gracey frowned and said demurringly,
“Now, Jim, what’s the use of coming down on me? Don’t you know I’m no dancing man?”
The other answered,
“Let’s see the girl first. Where is she?”—looking in through the window—“the one over there in pink? Oh, we don’t deserve that. What’s the matter with your being the Good Samaritan and dancing with her yourself?”