In fact, he summed up all the
romance that her age and environment led her to desire. She wondered
if those were his dancing-shoes that fox-trotted tentatively around the
soft rug below.
All impressions and, in fact, all ideas were extremely kaleidoscopic to
Isabelle. She had that curious mixture of the social and the artistic
temperaments found often in two classes, society women and actresses.
Her education or, rather, her sophistication, had been absorbed from the
boys who had dangled on her favor; her tact was instinctive, and her
capacity for love-affairs was limited only by the number of the
susceptible within telephone distance. Flirt smiled from her large
black-brown eyes and shone through her intense physical magnetism.
So she waited at the head of the stairs that evening while slippers
were fetched. Just as she was growing impatient, Sally came out of the
dressing-room, beaming with her accustomed good nature and high spirits,
and together they descended to the floor below, while the shifting
search-light of Isabelle's mind flashed on two ideas: she was glad she
had high color to-night, and she wondered if he danced well.
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