“All right. What'll we do?”
“I don't care. Do you want to stay here? There's nobody home to-night. I'll tell you, you can have a dancing lesson.”
“Guess I won't be much good at it. I don't believe I can learn.”
“Oh, yes, you can. You'll do beautifully. Now stand up.”
“Hunch felt awkward as she showed him the steps, and then tried to guide him about the room.
“I'm an awful fool,” he said.
“You ain't either. Here, you guide me.”
Hunch hesitated and looked at her. “Take hold of my hand. Put your arm around—oh, pshaw! it's just dancing; don't be so stupid. Not way off there. Hold me closer or we can't dance at all. Oh, you don't understand.” Hunch gripped her doggedly. She was leaning a little, trying to watch his feet, and as they stood there, her hair brushing against her shoulder and a slight blush on her forehead, he felt that he was losing his self-control. Then he found that he did not care, and he made no effort to hold himself in check.
“Now, one, two, three—one, two, three. Not that way. Try it again. One, two, three—you don't get it, somehow.”
Hunch was standing still, holding her firmly. She was so small in his grasp, he felt so strong and he could so easily lift her from the floor with his one arm that he was almost tempted to try it. She was looking down, and he could see the tip of an ear and a flushed cheek below the tangle of hair. Then for a moment she went on rapidly with her instructions, but her voice faltered, and stopped. They stood for a time without moving, then Hunch drew her a little closer and grasped her hand more firmly. She frowned and looked up, but she could not hide the color on her face, and the smiling strength in Hunch's eyes overbore the half-hearted disapproval in hers.