"No doubt," he grunts. "And I suppose I should be thankful that Marjorie didn't try to jump through a paper hoop. I trust, however, that this concludes the performance."
It did not! Next on the card was a onestep, with Marjorie and her unknown goin' to it like professionals; and if they omitted any fancy waves, you couldn't prove it by me. By this time too, Ferdie was sittin' up and takin' notice. "Oh, I say," says he, "isn't that the same fellow she danced with before?"
"You don't think a bunch of works like that could be twins, do you?" says I.
"But—but I'm sure I don't remember having met him, you know," says Ferdie, rubbin' his chin thoughtful.
"Then maybe you ain't," says I.
When they comes on for a third time, though, and prances through about as flossy a half-and-half as I've ever seen pulled at a private dance, Ferdie is some agitated in the mind. He ain't exactly green-eyed, but he's some disturbed. Yes, all of that!
"I—I think I'd best speak to Marjorie," says he.
"You'll have plenty of competition," says I. "Look!"
For the young chappies are crowdin' around her two deep, makin' dates for the next numbers. "Ferdie stares at the spectacle puzzled. He's a persistent messer, though.
"But really," he goes on, "I think I ought to meet that young fellow and find out who he is."