"Well, what shouldn't I be doin' in Marjorie's?" Mr. Levy returned indignantly. " I was inviting her for my partner in the cotillon—what you s'pose?"
"You haven't got any right to!" Penrod protested hotly. "You can't do it yet."
"I did do it yet!" said Maurice.
"You can't!" insisted Penrod. "You got to allow them time first. He said the ladies had to be allowed time to prepare."
"Well, ain't she had time to prepare?"
"When?" Penrod demanded, stepping close to his rival threateningly. "I'd like to know when"
"When?" echoed the other with shrill triumph. "When? Why, in mamma's sixty-horse powder limousine automobile, what Marjorie came home with me in! I guess that's when!"
An impulse in the direction of violence became visible upon the countenance of Penrod.
"I expect you need some wiping down," he began dangerously. "I'll give you sumpthing to remem"
"Oh, you will!" Maurice cried with astonishing truculence, contorting himself into what he may have considered a posture of defense. "Let's see you try it, you—you itcher!"
