The Siamese twins lurched into them again. Arnold whirled Dorothy out of the way, and the Siamese stumbled, knocking over one of the little tables near the edge of the dancing space.
“Tight,’ murmured Arnold.
Waiters appeared suddenly from all sides to resurrect the table. The headwaiter approached the scene of the catastrophe sternly. He was accompanied by a heavy, tired-looking functionary.
“That’s been going on all evening,” whispered the headwaiter. “Want to——”
The heavy man looked at the Siamese. He bowed suddenly, and smiled. The male Siamese smiled back. The heavy man motioned the headwaiter to accompany him.
“Thought they’d put them out,” remarked Arnold. “Probably somebody important.”
“The headwaiter just signaled to the band,” observed Dorothy.
The band slowed up in its music and the tune died out. There was no response to the handclapping of the dancers. The lights shifted to a dull orange.
“Starting the show early,” noted Arnold.
The show proved to be a replica of several vaudeville acts which had been playing about New York. For an hour, negroes shouted out ballads about Dixie and mammies and bandanas and down South. Dancers indulged in cake-walks. A particularly agile young negro performed a skating dance and followed it up with an impersonation of a Russian ballet principal. A large man in a checked suit demanded where Adam went when Eve was cutting the leaves, and a choir of dusky Adams and Eves danced behind him. They repeated the song endlessly.
[64]
