Again I felt as if she
had slapped my cheek.
Was I repugnant to her? I thought of my victory over the
acrimonious photographer at the railroad station. Had I not won
her favor there? And it came over me that even on that occasion
she had shown me but scant cordiality. Was it all because of
Auntie Yetta's idiotic jest? She beckoned to Miss Siegel, who was
on the other side of the hall, and presently she was joined by her
and by some other young people.
She danced indefatigably, now with this man, now with that, but
always of the same "set." I watched her. Sometimes, as she
waltzed, she talked and laughed brokenly, exchanging jokes with
her partner or with some other dancing couple. Sometimes she
looked solemnly absorbed, as though dancing were a sacred
function. I wondered whether she was interested in any one of
these fellows in particular. I could see that it gave her special
pleasure to waltz with that sallow-faced man, but he was the best
dancer in her group, and so homely that I discarded the theory of
her caring for him otherwise than as a waltzing partner as absurd.
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