“So you did notice me hanging around on the outskirts of the crowd,” he reproached her, adding with a sigh: “My, but it’s good to get you out here away from all that.”
By “that” he evidently meant the music and Betty leaned forward, her brow a little puckered.
“You’re worrying about that poor old man who died to-night. I know it!” she said, adding before he could interrupt: “Is there anything you can tell me, Allen, just to get it off your mind? I’d like to help if you’d let me.”
Allen covered her hand with his and for just a moment she let him do it.
“I’d tell you if I could tell any one,” he said gratefully. “You know that, Betty. But I can’t say any more just now.”
“Then come in and dance,” said Betty, jumping to her feet in one of her swift changes of mood. “We can’t stay out here, you know.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Well, it isn’t being done,” said Betty whimsically, adding, with apparent innocence: “Listen, that’s a waltz, isn’t it? Frank just loves to waltz with me!”
“You little wretch!” laughed Allen, as he followed her into the brightly lighted room.