“That’s more like it.”
And they were off again to the lilt of the music but, struggle as she would, the coughing and the dizziness and the heat took hold of her and at the close of the dance she fainted quietly against his shoulder.
And when she finally caught at consciousness, as it passed and repassed her befuddled mind, she was on the floor of the cloak room, her head pillowed on the skirt of a pink domino.
“There, there, dearie; your young man’s waiting outside to take you home.”
“I—I’m all right!”
“Certainly you are. The heat done it. Here; lemme help you out of your domino.”
“It was the heat done it.”
“There; you’re all right now. I gotta get back to my dance. You fainted right up against him, dearie; and I seen you keel.”
“Gee, ain’t I the limit!”
“Here; lemme help you on with your coat. Right there he is, waiting.”