Every one does the same in a crowded city neighborhood.

There comes a time in a girl's life when this sort of thing becomes monotonous.

The time came when Annie found sitting on the doorstep and talking about nothing in particular entirely unbearable.

So one balmy, inviting spring night she slipped away and went with the lodger to a dance.
The dance hall occupied a big, low-ceiled basement room in a building which was a combination of saloon and tenement house.

In one of the front windows of the basement room was hung a gaudy placard: "The Johnny Sullivan Social Club." The lodger paid no admission, but he deposited ten cents for a hat check, after which they went in.