He did not wait to ascertain if there might be a few more bars of encore. He did not know, even, that there was a possibility of such. Still in a daze, he led Eileen Pederstone to her seat. He thanked her, bowed and turned to cross the floor. But she did not sit down. She laid a detaining hand gently on his arm.
“Thank you so much!” she said. “I enjoyed it immensely. And Mr. Brenchfield dared to say you couldn’t dance!”
Phil smiled, but did not reply. The spell of the dance had not yet entirely gone from him.
“Are you afraid to ask me if there might be another?” she inquired, with a coy glance and just a little petulance in her voice.
“Can you––can you spare another?”
“Of course, I can!”
“Another waltz?” he queried eagerly.
“The dance fourth from now is a waltz,” she answered.
“May I have it?”
“Yes!”