" It was true--she told every one so,
and gave every hand a parting pressure that said: "You know that your
dances are _making_ my evening."
But time passed, two hours of it, and the less subtle beaux had better
learned to focus their pseudo-passionate glances elsewhere, for eleven
o'clock found Isabelle and Amory sitting on the couch in the little den
off the reading-room up-stairs. She was conscious that they were a
handsome pair, and seemed to belong distinctively in this seclusion,
while lesser lights fluttered and chattered down-stairs.
Boys who passed the door looked in enviously--girls who passed only
laughed and frowned and grew wise within themselves.
They had now reached a very definite stage. They had traded accounts of
their progress since they had met last, and she had listened to much she
had heard before. He was a sophomore, was on the Princetonian board,
hoped to be chairman in senior year. He learned that some of the boys
she went with in Baltimore were "terrible speeds" and came to dances in
states of artificial stimulation; most of them were twenty or so, and
drove alluring red Stutzes.
Pages:
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111