Mary looked behind her. Howard had disappeared. Lutie was singing a song which seemed to have no connection rhythmically or melodically with the music the band was playing. Piqua and Arabia hovered like guardian angels over their affluent friend.
Come on and dance, Mary, Dr. Lister invited.
Not just now, George, thank you. . I have a headache. I think, Adora, I'll speak to one or two more people while I have the chance.
Come back later, urged Adora, as Mary left the box.
She walked down the aisle behind the row of boxes. On the railing of this row a strange, young man was attempting to dance the Charleston. At small tables, groups had gathered to drink and chatter. Their laughter rang high over the music. The band was still playing, but as she searched the floor again, she could see no trace of Byron and Ollie. I'll make him look me up, she said to herself, but she was trembling with agitation.
She extended her hand to Mrs. Sumner, sitting back in her cloak of sable, and then to Mrs. Lorillard, in orchid satin with a band of uncut turquoises around her throat and a cluster of scarlet geraniums at her waist.
I'm delighted to see you again, Miss Love, Campaspe greeted her. I did enjoy that exhibition of African sculpture. I've bought several pieces for myself since.
