Page:Teeftallow-1926.djvu/307

women ought to fall on our knees and thank God for it." Her bosom lifted with a little irregular breath and she smiled faintly in his face.

"Papa wants to see you," she said unexpectedly.

Abner gave a little start as if coming out of a daydream.

"Where is he?"

"In the library. I'll take you in."

Alarm touched Abner. "Won't I get to see you any more to-night?"

She laughed. "You'll have to come thank me for my party afterward."

She arose, and Abner unwillingly concluded the most intriguing and confusing tête-à-tête he had ever known. They passed out of the palms through the dancers. "This door," she directed, and opened a door into a small room in which a single electric bulb was burning. She closed the shutter behind them and the music was muffled to a palpitant wail.

Adelaide seemed to listen to it. "You really ought to learn to dance, Abner," she advised in a queer tone. "You could if you'd try."

"I don't much believe I can."

"Try! You can try!" She caught his arm, slipped into it, wound her own arm about his body and began swaying to the subdued music. "Here, like this," she directed urgently, "swing with me . . . like this . . ." She pressed herself to him, bending back and forth.

Abner began swaying with her, self-consciously at first, but presently the beat of the jazz, the intimate feel of the girl's body, the curves of her bosom moving against his own changed from an awkwardness to a rising intoxication. The hot syncopation of the jazz band filled the room. The girl became part of the music. The cornet skirled, the saxophone wailed, the drums pounded—the voice of Africa, of burning suns and passionate bodies hurled them along in the provocation of its swift tempo. Abner gripped her to him with a strength he was not conscious of; Adelaide followed his