“Can’t be serious ’n my house, Ward Trenton! Always too serious for Irene and me. Just look ’t that beautiful girl I got you to play with; silly to be serious with a girl like that.”
“All right; we’ll dance then,” said Trenton, amiably.
“Thass the talk! Don’t forget this’s a party, not a funeral.”
Jerry had rolled back the rugs and pushed the furniture out of the way in the living room. Kemp and Irene were already on the floor dancing exaggeratedly to the air of one of the new records.
“I’m not up to date on the new stuff,” remarked Trenton apologetically; but Grace found that he danced well and evidently with enjoyment.
“You two not drinkin’ enough,” said Kemp in one of the pauses, planting himself waveringly before Trenton and Grace and extending a glass. “Gotta drink more; party’s no good without wine; lots o’ wine. Want everybody t’ get soused like me.”
II
Grace’s experience of drunkenness had been limited to the occasional sight of a tipsy man in the street and she was shocked by the unhappy change in Kemp’s appearance. His suave courtesy had disappeared. His hair was in disorder; Irene had rumpled it before they left the table, saying that he was too pretty; and as he talked his head moved queerly in time with his jerky articulation. And he looked old; one might have thought that Age, as a punishment for his intemperance had snatched away his youthful mask. Finding that Grace and Trenton paid no heed to his demand that they drink more wine he followed them over the floor and finally arrested them while he apologized elaborately for neglecting Grace. She was his guest and it was time that he was dancing with her. Irene rose from the couch where she had been watching them and announced her determination to teach Trenton a new step; his manner of dancing was all out of date she said. She flung her arms around his neck and with her head on his shoulder pushed him about, while Kemp, delighted at Trenton’s discomfiture, clapped his hands in time to the music.
Grace, finding herself free, seized the moment to try to escape, but Kemp lunged to the door and intercepted her.
“Runnin’ ’way from me! Awfu’ bad manners run away from host. Gotta dance with me like Irene. Thass right, Grace; good li’l’ sport; Irene’s friends all good sports.”