"I've saved the fifth two-step and the seventh waltz for you," said Dolly, squeezing his arm ever so lightly, "though you haven't asked me yet."
The summer was long and she was quite aware that in another ten days the resplendent Mr. Hicks would pass as Shelley had passed. Besides she secretly admired Skippy's sporting manner in adversity.
"Awfully good of you," he said lightly, "but see here, Dolly, don't bother about me. Hickey's got us all skinned hollow when it comes to this game. Go ahead, keep on dancing with him. Go as far as you like."
"My, but he waltzes divinely!" said Dolly, relieved.
"He's a wonder, all right, and a cracker-jack at anything he touches! Sambones says he'll make the varsity, certain next year."
"What happened about his leaving school?"
"That—that was an outrage," said Skippy, who would have scorned to attack a rival meanly. "I'll tell you all about that."
"You're sure you don't mind my dancing so much with him?" said Dolly, who had allowed Hickey to cut in six dances running.
"I? Bless you, no!"
"It's just his wonderful dancing," said Dolly, looking down.