It struck her that she was utterly mad. She had never dreamed of talking like that to any one. What was she doing and why?
"Don't you believe it one minute!" His voice had the dominating ring again, and suddenly she felt that she had started a force she was powerless to control. The situation was out of her hands, running away with her. Her only safety was silence, and she shrank into it.
When the car stopped she jumped out of it quickly and attached herself to momma. In the hot, smoky room they found a table at the edge of the dancing floor, and she slipped into the chair farthest from him, ordering lemonade. Exhilaration left her; again she could think of nothing that seemed worth saying, and she felt his amused eyes upon her while she sat looking at the red crepe-paper decorations overhead and the maze of dancing couples. It was some time before the rhythm of the music began to beat in her blood and the scene lost its tawdriness and became gay.
"Everybody's doing it now!" Louise hummed, looking at him under her long lashes. The others were dancing, and the three sat alone at the table. "Everybody's doing it, doing it, doing it. Everybody's doing it, but you—and me."
"Go and grab off somebody else," he answered good-humoredly. "I'm dancing with Helen—when she gets over being afraid of me." He lighted a cigarette casually.
"Oh, really? I'd love to dance. Only I don't do it very well."
His arms were around her and they were dancing before she perceived how neatly she had risen to the bait. She stumbled and lost a step in her fury.
"No? Not afraid of me?" he laughed. "Well, don't be. What's the use?"
"It isn't that," she said. "Only I don't know how to play your game. And I don't want to play it. And I'm not going to. You're too clever."
"Don't be afraid," he said, and his arm tightened. They missed step again, and she lost the swing of the music. "Let yourself go, relax," he ordered. "Let the music—that's better."