“Charley, I—honest, I—I’m going to keel. I—I can’t stand it packed in here—like this.”
She leaned to him, with the color drained out of her face; and the crowd of black and pink and red dominos, gnomes gone mad, pressed, batted, surged.
“Look out, Sweetness! Don’t give out in here! They’ll crush us out. Ain’t you got no nerve? Here; don’t give out now! Gee! Watch out, there! The lady’s sick. Watch out! Here; now sit down a minute and get your wind.”
He pressed her shoulders downward and she dropped whitely on a little camp chair hidden underneath the balcony.
“I gotta get out, Charley; I gotta get out and get air. I feel like I’m going to suffocate in here. It’s this old cough takes the breath out of me.”
In the foyer she revived a bit and drank gratefully of the water he brought; but the color remained out of her cheeks and the cough would rack her.
“I guess I oughtta go home, Charley.”
“Aw, cut it! You ain’t the only girl I’ve seen give out. Sit here and rest a minute and you’ll be all right. Great Scott! I came here to dance.”
She rose to her feet a bit unsteadily, but smiling.
“Fussy! Who said I didn’t?”