r.

As for Ferdie, he just sits there and blinks, followin' 'em through his
spare panes. Course I could guess he wa'n't hep to any facts about
Skeet. He was just a strange young gent to him, and it wa'n't up to me
to add any details. So I settles back and watches 'em too.

And, say, you know how surprised you'd be to see any fat friend of yours
buckle on a pair of ice skates and do the double grapevine up and down
the rink? Well, that's the identical kind of jar I got when Marjorie
begins that willowy bendy figure. It ain't any waddly caricature of it,
either. It's the real thing. Honest, she's as light on her feet as if
her middle name was Pavlowa!

At the same time it's lucky Skeet has arms, long enough to reach 'way
round when he's steerin' her. If they'd been an inch or so shorter, he'd
have had to break his clinch in some of them whirls, and then there'd
been a big dent in the floor. He seems just built for the job, though.
In and out, round and round, through the Parisienne, the flirtation, and
all the other frills, he pilots her safe, bendin' and swayin' to the
music, his number ten feet glidin' easy, and kind of a smirky, satisfied
look on that sappy mug of his; while Marjorie, she simply lets herself
go for all she's worth, her eyes sparklin', and the pink and white in
her cheeks showin' clear and fresh.

Take it from me too, it's some swell exhibit! There was four or five
other couples on at the same time, the girls all slender, wispy young
things, that never split out a waist seam in their lives; but Marjorie
and her partner had the gallery right with 'em. Two or three times
durin' the dance they got scatterin' applause, and when the music
fin'lly stops, leavin' 'em alone in the middle of the floor, they got a
reg'lar big hand.

"I take it all back," says I to Ferdie. "That was real classy spielin'.
Now wa'n't it?."

"No doubt," he grunts. "And I suppose I should be thankful that Marjorie
didn't try to jump through a paper hoop. I trust, however, that this
concludes the performance."

It did not! Next on the card was a onestep, with Marjorie and her
unknown goin' to it like professionals; and if they omitted any fancy
waves, you couldn't prove it by me. By this time too, Ferdie was sittin'
up and takin' notice. "Oh, I say," says he, "isn't that the same fellow
she danced with before?"

"You don't think a bunch of works like that could be twins, do you?"
says I.

"But--but I'm sure I don't remember