He searched his mind for memories of women, fair and great and interesting. He was surprised at the multitude whom he knew by sight and sound. This Delia girl—he puzzled with a half-awakening sense of memory. He recalled her voice, and it suggested other voices. Yet he could not place a name or a fact with that voice, to recall it.
He went on down to the concert boat, to see the dancing again. He was already up to his neck in the novelty of the shantyboat life, He could see columns and columns of articles about these floating people. He dared not miss so good a scene as the men and women dancing—men with the mark of Cain in their eyes; women who looked as though they had experienced a thousand adventures; and music which possessed a strange and melancholy undertone, themes that were more pathetic than the people themselves.
Urleigh ventured to dance a set or two, and to waltz, trot, and eddy-step under the tutelage of one of the women, who was not old but who was very, very wise. She led him up and down the two-set hall, and as he was agile on his feet, he made an impression on the crowd. Her man, who was playing fiddle, kept shouting:
"Shake yer legs, boy! Shake 'em! That gal theh can outdance any gal I know of in them fancy steppin's. Shake up, boy! Get to it. You all's the
