"Edie's had just one cocktail too many."
"Yes." They ignored the more obvious fact that the Colonel had. The evening had reached the stage when he always had.
"He hasn't danced with you many times, Minna dear."
"I'm tired of dancing, but don't let me keep you here, Lil."
"I haven't seen him dance with you at all."
"He hasn't yet."
"No?" said Mrs. Burr, very casually.
"No. Lil, I think Ranny wants you. He's wandering about, looking vague."
"Don't you want me, dear? Well, Ranny always wants me."
Mr. Randolph Sebastian, discovering her suddenly, gave exaggerated proof of this as he carried her off. If the Colonel's secretary had really been recruited from a dance hall, he had profited by what he saw there, and showed it in every quick, graceful turn he made. His partner was the type of woman that dancing might have been invented to show off; it gave her lazy, graciously built body a reason for being, and put a flicker of meaning into her shallow eyes so that she was not floridly pretty any longer, but beautiful. This was peculiarly apparent when she danced with Mr. Sebastian. She seemed to have been created for the purpose of dancing with him; it could not have been more apparent if their elaborate game of devotion to each other had been real, and they were really lovers.