I'd adore to, Mary murmured, as she went away with Dick.
The heat was killing her. She had no desire to dance, but she put new lightness into her feet, flinging her whole body into the now detestable rhythm. When the music stopped she awarded the orchestra abandoned applause.
I've never known you to dance like this before, Sill assured her. I thought you said you were tired.
I never was less tired in my life.
Suddenly, near them rose a shriek. They turned to see two women, strangers, each pulling at the hair of the other.
I'll teach you to leave my man be! one was screaming.
Two men separated the combatants. The victim of the assault stood in an attitude of defiance, her arms akimbo. I ain't interested in your man, she taunted her assailant. I can't help it if he follows me wherever I go. I can't help it if he writes me notes every day and sends me flowers and candy. I can't help it, can I? I don't want your man, ain't got a bit o' use for him, but he's jes' nacherly bent on pursuin' . . . The music closed over the incident as the waves close over a ship wrecked in the middle of the ocean. The dancing crowd blotted out the spectacle. Gaiety and charm everywhere; gaiety and charm and rhythm.
Primitive! thought Mary, exulting. Savage!
Suddenly, quite by chance, a space cleared on the
