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The Dance.
111

"I was reciting Golatly's poem about your struggle with Matt."

"You don't know what a hero you are made out to be," said Miss Bliss, looking up at Hart with a laugh.

"Well, I don't feel like one," Hart answered awkwardly. "It's very hot this evening."

"Yes, it is," said Miss Bliss.

"Floor is very good."

Miss Bliss appeared astonished. Somehow the smile of interest was fading away.

"The music is very good too."

"Yes," answered Miss Bliss.

"How pretty the decorations are."

Why, it was as easy as swimming. The music struck up, and Hart after three or four collisions in getting started managed to get through four or five turns of the polka.

"Thank you very much," said Miss Bliss, as they swung near their seat again. "I promised to give half of this to Mr. Hollingsworth."

She left Hart with a little smile, and Hollingsworth guided her away into the crowd.

"I thought you said he was a character,—a hoosier, you called him," said Miss Bliss.