slipped into a vacant chair beside Mrs. Boniface, inquired.
Why aren't you? Same reason, I guess. Too much crowd. I need room. It's too hot to navigate around that floor. Have some tea. . . . Adora emptied her own glass.
No, thank you. I'm afraid that would make me hotter.
Adora adjusted her ermine wrap around her shoulders. It's positively cold if you sit still, she complained. There's a draught from that window and I get tired of asking somebody to close it. Did you see Rannie? she whispered to Mary.
Yes, I did.
He's got a nerve coming to a dance like this with that . . .
Who is she? Mary inquired.
She's a tart, Adora replied, a little street-walker named Ruby Silver. He's keeping her. Everybody knows that, but he don't have to trot her out as if she was a prize filly. You bet he won't bring her to my house.
Trot who out? demanded Alcester Parker who had just entered the box.
I'll trot you out, if you can't make yourself behave, Adora announced severely.
On the floor Mary could see Hester hopping about with Orville for all the world as though they were skipping rope. Olive and Byron she could not discover.
