"
"Barbara! With your dear little Letter in my breast pocket at this
moment!"
"I didn't know men had breast pockets in their evening clothes."
"Oh well, have it your own way. I'm too happy to quarrel," he said. "How
well you dance--only, let me lead, won't you? How strange it is to think
that we have never danced together before!"
"We must have a talk," I said desparately. "Can't we go somwhere, away
from the noise?"
"That would be conspicuous, wouldn't it, under the circumstances? If we
are to overcome the Familey objection to me, we'll have to be cautious,
Barbara."
"Don't call me Barbara," I snapped. "I know perfectly well what you
think of me, and I----"
"I think you are wonderful," he said. "Words fail me when I try to tell
you what I am thinking. You've saved the Cotillion for me, haven't you?
If not, I'm going to claim it anyhow. IT IS MY RIGHT."
He said it in the most determined manner, as if everything was settled.
I felt like a rat in a trap, and Carter, watching from a corner, looked
exactly like a cat. If he had taken his hand in its white glove and
washed his face with it, I would hardly have been surprized.
The music stopped, and somebody claimed me for the next. Jane came up,
too, and cluched my arm.
"You lucky thing!" she said. "He's perfectly handsome. And oh, Bab, he's
wild about you. I can see it in his eyes."
"Don't pinch, Jane," I said coldly. "And don't rave. He's an idiot."
She looked at me with her mouth open.
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