She was talking and smiling.
"Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!" said the fan.
Mr. Grimm twisted around in his seat and regaled his listless eyes with
a long stare into the senorita's pretty face. Behind the careless ease
of repose he was mechanically isolating the faint clatter of the fan.
"Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!"
"Did any one ever accuse you of staring, Mr. Grimm?" demanded the
senorita banteringly.
For an instant Mr. Grimm continued to stare, and then his listless eyes
swept the ball-room, pausing involuntarily at the scarlet splendor of
the minister from Turkey.
"I beg your pardon," he apologized contritely. There was a pause. "The
minister from Turkey looks like a barn on fire, doesn't he?"
Senorita Rodriguez laughed, and Mr. Grimm glanced idly toward Miss
Thorne. She was still talking, her face alive with interest; and the fan
was still tapping rhythmically, steadily, now on the arm of her chair.
"Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot! Dot-dash-dot!"
"Pretty women who don't want to be stared at should go with their faces
swathed," Mr. Grimm suggested indolently.
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