"Of course!"
"You've got the nerve?"
She laughed; it was not a question of courage.
"Come on, then!"
She nodded, and glanced about the room. Ida Summers was at the piano, clamoring for a certain dance, not five feet from Massingale. She went quickly, saying, in a voice that would carry where she intended:
"Ida, I'm off for a lark. Don't be worried if I disappear!"
"Heavens, Dodo, what are you going to do now?" said Ida, looking up startled.
"Great fun! Mr. Lindaberry's going to show me what it feels like to go a mile a minute in the dark."
To her surprise, she was instantly surrounded by those who had heard her remark—a group in violent protest.
"You're mad!"