Part 75 (1/2)
”Will you go round, Miss Harkins?”
They melted into the embrace of the dance and moved off. When Mr. Sippy danced every faculty was pressed into service--his head was thrown back and his feet glided like well-trained automatons.
”Wasn't that just grand!” breathed Lilly, when the music ceased. She was softly radiant.
”Swell!” agreed Mr. Sippy, applauding for an encore. ”Swell!” He regarded her with new interest. ”You're some dancer, kid,” he said.
”Oh, Mr. Sippy, who could help dancin' good with you?”
They glided away again. After the waltz they sought the side-lines, where soft drinks were served. A waiter dabbed at the table-top; Lilly fanned herself and ordered sarsaparilla.
”You don't look hot--you look cool,” said Mr. Sippy, admiringly.
She took a dainty draught through her straw.
”I'm just happy--that's all,” she replied.
The misery, the monotony, the wail of the mother, her own desperation--were away back in the experience of another self. Life had turned on its axis and swung her out of darkness into light. Girls in lacy waists and with swagger hips laughed into her eyes; men looked at her with frank admiration. George Sippy leaned toward her and looked intimately into her face.
”Say,” he said, ”Polly must have known I like blondes.”
”Oh, and I'm always wis.h.i.+n' to be a brunette!”
”You're my style, all right.”
”I'll bet you say that to every girl.”
”Nix I do. You can ask Polly if I ain't hard to suit. I know just what style of girl I like.”
”There's a lot in knowin' just what you like,” she said, archly.
”That's some yellow hair you got,” he observed, irrelevantly. ”My sister used to have hair like that.”
She felt of her coiffure.
”Do you like 'em? You ought to see 'em just after they been washed.”
Mr. Sippy expressed a polite desire to observe the phenomenon. They danced again. Once in the maze of couples, they caught sight of Lulu and Mr. Polly, and they changed partners; but after a while they drifted together again.
”Gee!” said Mr. Sippy. ”I'd rather dance with you.”
”Ain't that funny?” said Lilly. ”That's just what I was thinkin'.”
They looked into each other's eyes.
”I ain't the kind of a fellow that takes up with every girl,” explained Mr. Sippy, in self-elucidation.
”That's just what I like,” said Lilly; ”that's just the way with me. It ain't everybody I take a likin' to; but when I do like a person I like 'em.”
”Now just look at me,” went on Mr. Sippy. ”If I wanted to I could bring a girl down here every night; but I don't, just because it ain't often I take a fancy to a girl.”