"Well--that's all RIGHT--" he began uncertainly. Nancy, dropping
the brown strands, and tossing the whole hot mass free, felt that
she could burst into tears.
Chapter Eleven
The dinner was an ordeal; her partner was unfortunately interested
only in motor-cars, of which Nancy could find little that was
intelligent to say. She felt like what she was, a humble relative
out of her element. After dinner they were all packed into cars,
and swept to the club.
Darkness and the sound of a comedian's voice in monologue warned
them as they entered that the entertainment was begun; after much
whispering, laughing and stumbling however, they were piloted to
chairs, and for perhaps an hour and a half Nancy was quite alone,
and much entertained. Then the lights went up, and the crowd
surged noisily to and fro.
She lost sight of Bert, but was duly introduced to new people; and
they spoke of the successful entertainment, and of the club-house.
Nancy danced only once or twice, and until almost two o'clock sat
talking, principally with a pleasant old lady, who had a daughter
to chaperon.
Then the first departures began, and Nancy had a merry good-night
from Dorothy, called over the latter's powdered shoulder as she
danced, and went home.
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