"That's what you always say, Joe; no place is the place."

"Gee, ain't it swell enough just the way we are--just like it is, us
knocking round together? I ain't your settling-down kind, sister. You're
one little winner, and I like your style o' sweetness, but I ain't what
you'd call a homesteader."

"Joe!"

"Sure; I mean it. I like you well enough to do any little thing your
heart desires; but I never look far ahead, hon. I'm near-sighted."

"What--what about me?"

"I ain't got nothing saved up--not a dime. You tell your dame--you tell
her we--we just understand each other. Huh? How's that? That's fair
enough, ain't it?"

"Whatta you mean, Joe? You always say that; but please, Joe, please tell
me what you mean?"

"Listen, kiddo. Say, listen to that trot they're playin', will you? Come
on, sis; be a sport! To-morrow night we'll talk about anything your
little heart desires. Come on, one round! Don't make me sore."

"Aw, no, Joe; I gotta go."

"One round, sweetness--see, I'll pay the check. See, two rounds round,
and we'll light out for home. Look, they're all watchin' for us--two
rounds, sweetness."

"One, you just said, Joe."

"One, then, little mouse."

They rose to the introductory titillation of violins; she slid into his
embrace with a little fluid movement, and they slithered out on the
shining floor. A light murmur like the rustle of birds' wings went after
them, and couples leaned from their tables to watch the perfect
syncopation of their steps. His slightly crepuscular eyes took on the
sheen of mica; the color ran high in her face, and her lips parted.

"They sit up and take notice when we slide out, don't they, little one?"

"Yes."

"Some class to my trotting, ain't there, sweetness?"

"Yeh. Look, Joe; we gotta go after this round--it's nearly twelve."

"Twice round, sweetness, and then we go. If we ain't got the profesh
beat on that Argentine Dip I'll give ten orchestra seats to charity and
let any box-office in this town land me for what I'm worth."

"Joe!"

"Aw, I was only kiddin'. They got as much chance with me as a man with
Saint Vitus's dance has of landing a trout. Gee, you're pretty to-night,
sweetness!"

"Sweetness yourself!"

"Peaches and Cream!"

"Come on, Joe; this is twice round."

"Once more, sweetness--just once more! See, you got me hypnotized; my
feet won't stop. See, they keep going and going. See, I can't stop.
Whoa! Whoa! Honest, I can't quit! Whoa! We go