—“Stumbling here and there, stumbling every¬ where—” Six dowagers, the chaperons, sat in a orner, gossiped, and idly watched the young ouples. ... A man suddenly released his girl and aced clumsily for the door, one hand pressed to his louth, the other stretched uncertainly in front of im. Always the drums beating their terrible tom-tom, heir primitive, blood-maddening tom-tom. . . . loom, boom, boom, boom— “I like it just a little it, just a little bit, quite a little bit.” The music eased, and some of the couples disentangled themelves; others waited in frank embrace for the rchestra to begin the encore. ... A boy slumped 1 a chair, his head in his hands. His partner ought two friends. They helped the boy out of he gymnasium. The orchestra leader lifted his bow. The stags waited in a broken line, looking for certain girls, lie music began, turning a song with comic words ito something weirdly sensuous—strange syncopaons, uneven, startling drum-beats—a mad tomom. The couples pressed close together again, waying, barely moving in place—boom, boom, 00m, boom— “Second-hand hats, second-hand lothes— That’s why they call me second-hand lose. . . .” The saxophones sang the melody ith passionate despair; the violins played tricks with a broken heart; the clarinets rose shrill in pain;
