The Charm School
Elise's limp hand, "how's it going? As much fun as you expected? Your hands are cold. By Jove! Bevans, what would you give to be at an age when your hands are like ice, and you tremble—yes, tremble, at the pleasure of a mere dance? My, I couldn't get as excited as that if I were going to wreck a bank." He patted her hand and replaced it at her side, as if of herself she would not have sense enough to know what to do with it. "Ah, Bevans, youth, youth—no cares, no troubles. Run up and dance, my dear; we won't keep you doing the civil—dance and get your circulation started. And now what the deuce was it you wanted to say to me, Bevans?"
Austin hesitated. In view of what had just occurred, it did seem absurd to cite George as a criminal disturber of the little princess's peace of mind. She saw his hesitation, gave him a last smile to assure him that whatever he decided to do would be perfect, and disappeared.
Mr. Johns settled into a chair, bit off a cigar, and prepared for a chat along lines of his own selection.
"Notice that young feller, Boyd?" he said.
"Did I notice him?" echoed Austin.
"Wasn't he here when you came in?
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