I felt that we were drawn to each other.

I am like you; I am just full of magnetism." Sandy unconsciously moved slightly away: he had a sudden uncomfortable realization that he was the only one within the sphere of influence.
After two intermissions he suggested that they go out to the drug-store and get some soda-water.

On the steps they met Annette.
"You old f-fraud," she whispered to Sandy in passing, "I thought you didn't like to sit out d-dances." He smiled feebly.
"Don't you mind her teasing," pouted his partner; "if we like to talk better than to dance, it's our own affair." Sandy wished devoutly that it was somebody else's.

When they returned, they went back to their old corner.

The chairs, evidently considering them permanent occupants, assumed an air of familiarity which he resented.
"Do you know, you remind me of an old sweetheart of mine," resumed the voice of his captor, coyly.