"Hang the storm!" cried Mac gaily. "I'm in for it with the governor,
anyhow. Let's make a night of it!"
At the end of a dance even wilder than the rest, Nance found herself with
Mac at the entrance to one of the boxes that flanked the stage.
"I've got you now!" he panted, catching her wrists and pulling her within
the curtained recess. "You've got to tell me why you've been running away
from me all evening."
"I haven't," said Nance, laughing and struggling to free her hands.
"You have, too! You've given me the slip a dozen times. Don't you know
I'm crazy about you?"
"Much you are!" scoffed Nance. "Go tell that to Birdie."
"I'll tell it to Birdie and every one else if you like," Mac cried. "It
was all up with me the first time I saw you."
With his handsome, boyish face and his frilled shirt, he looked so
absurdly like the choir boy, who had once sat on the fence flinging rocks
at her, that she threw back her head and laughed.
"You don't even know the first time you saw me," she challenged him.
"Well, I know I've seen you somewhere before. Tell me where?"
"Guess!" said Nance, with dancing eyes.
"Wait! I know! It was on the street one night. You were standing in a
drug store. A red light was shining on you, and you smiled at me."
"I smiled at you because I knew you. I'd seen you before that. Once when
you didn't want me to. In the factory yard--behind the gas-pipe--"
"Were you the little girl that caught me kissing Bird that day?"
"Yes! But there was another time even before that.
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