That's a NICE way to act, isn't it ?" Carlie Chitten's dark head showed itself cautiously beyond the casing of the door.
"How's your thumb, Sam ?" he asked.
"You wait!" Sam shouted, turning furiously; but the small prestidigitator was gone.

With a smothered laugh, Carlie dashed through the groups of boys in the dressing-room and made his way downstairs, his manner reverting to its usual polite gravity before he entered the drawing-room, where his hostess waited.

Music sounding at about this time, he was followed by the other boys, who came trooping down, leaving the dressing-room empty.
Penrod, among the tail-enders of the procession, made his dancing-school bow to Miss Rennsdale and her grown-up supporters (two maiden aunts and a governess) then he looked about for Marjorie, discovering her but too easily.

Her amber curls were swaying gently in time to the music; she looked never more beautiful, and her partner was Master Chitten! A pang of great penetrative power and equal unexpectedness found the most vulnerable spot beneath the simple black of Penrod Schofield's jacket.

Straightway he turned his back upon the crash-covered floors where the dancers were, and moved gloomily toward the hall.