"I don't care what you bar," retorted Bertha. "I'm going to recite: at least, I'm going to do a sort of a sketch with George Willis."
"I don't call that reciting."
"It wouldn't make any difference if you did."
I was rapidly beginning to learn that these people had a candid way of addressing each other which, to a stranger, was a little alarming.
"The question is, Molly, what shall I put you down for? Will you give us a dance?"
"A dance? I don't know what you mean."
"A cake-walk, or a skirt-twirl, or a few steps--anything."
"Do you mean, will I dance, all by myself, in front of a lot of strangers?"
"Yes, why not? Everybody does if they can."
"I cannot, thank you."