“Oh, I don't know.” She danced a few steps before him on the walk. “Come on, don't be so pokey. Can you dance?”
“No, not very much.”
“Oh, you've got to learn to dance, or I won't like you a bit. I'll tell you, I'll teach you, some of the nights when we don't go over to Marne's. That'll be fun—don't you think?”
Hunch nodded, and caught her arm as she whirled by him, and they walked home soberly, talking about Bruce and Mamie and how happy they seemed to be. At the door Hunch said “goodnight,” and started away. She stood on the steps.
“Say,” she called softly, as he opened the gate, “you've got the key.”
Hunch came back, a little confused, and took her key from his pocket. He tried to unlock the door, and they both laughed when he got the key stuck in the lock.
“You're awful clumsy,” she said, and in trying to help him her hand rested for a moment on his.
“My, your hands are cold,” she said.
He took hold of her hand and replied, “Mine ain't so cold as yours.”
“Yes, it is.” She drew hers away slowly, and opened the door. They both laughed. Jess leaned back against the door.