Manchurian Books

The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next.
Jane came up, too, and cluched my arm.
"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And
oh, Bab, he's wild about you. I can see it in his eyes."
"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's
an idiot."
She looked at me with her mouth open.
"Well, if you don't want him, pass him on to me," she said,
and walked away.
It was too silly, after everything that had happened, to
dance the next dance with Willie Graham, who is still in
knickerbockers, and a full head shorter than I am. But that's
the way with a Party for the school crowd, as I've said before.
They ask all ages, from perambulaters up, and of course the
little boys all want to dance with the older girls. It is deadly
stupid.
But H seemed to be having a good time. He danced a lot with
Jane, who is a wreched dancer, with no sense of time whatever.
Jane is not pretty, but she has nice eyes, and I am not afraid,
second couzin once removed or no second couzin once removed, to
say she used them.
Altogether, it was a terrible evening.


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