Someone called out "Faster!"
Kate gave it faster. Then to see them and to hear the rattle of the boots
upon the floor! You'd think they were being carried away in a whirlwind.
All but Sal and Paddy Maloney gave up and leant against the wall, and
puffed and mopped their faces and their necks with their
pocket-handkerchiefs.
Faster still went the music; faster whirled Sal and Paddy Maloney. And
Paddy was on his mettle. He was lifting Sal off her feet. But Kate was
showing signs of distress. She leaned forward, jerked her head about,
and tugged desperately at the concertina till both handles left it. That
ended the tussle; and Paddy spread himself on the floor, his back to the
wall, his legs extending to the centre of the room, his chin on his chest,
and rested.
Then enjoyment at high tide; another dance proposed; Sal trying hard to
persuade Dad to take Mother or Mrs. Maloney up; Dad saying "Tut, tut,
tut!"--when in popped Dave, and stood near the door. He had n't changed
his clothes, and was grease from top to toe. A saddle-strap was in one
hand, his Sunday clothes, tied up in a handkerchief, in the other, and his
presence made the room smell just like a woolshed.
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