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Updated: May 6, 2025
But I do the heavy thinking for the Moran family. I nearly starved him until I'd saved out a tenspot. Then I went to the best tango professor I could find and took an hour lesson. Next I taught Tim. We cleared out our little dining room and had our meals off the gas range. My next splurge was a music machine and some dance records.
I do pine for a tango! My! I'm just through with this dull time!" Ferdinand was a rest to her, almost as good as Hans. She had not to be over-refined she knew that he was on the same level as herself. He amused her too in several ways. He looked sulky now. It did not suit his plans to go to Paris yet. He was trying to collect information for a game of his own.
It's one of Marjorie's! "Huh!" says I. "Met her at Mrs. Astor's, I expect?" Skeet shuffles his feet and tries to look indignant. "Come on, give us the plot of the piece," says I, "or I'll call up Sister Maggie and put her on the stand. Where was it, now?" "If you must know," says Skeet sulky, "it was at Roselle's." "The tango factory?" says I. "Oh, I'm beginnin' to get the thread.
When Maurice Gadby was a boy in Homeburg, he went barefooted in summer with the rest of us, and who could have guessed that he would grow up to give tango teas for your four hundred and only allow the better quality of them to pay him twenty-five dollars per cup at that? But the career that amuses me most is Jack Nixon "Shinner" Nixon, we used to call him.
"Your pearls," she whispered, as she and Doran danced the tango together, taking graceful steps which she had taught him during the fortnight they had known each other. "How do they look?" "Glorious on you!" he answered. "And the ring has come. I telegraphed, you know. It's what you wanted. I was able to get it, I'm happy to say.
I felt that there were, indeed, no bounds to what a jealous woman might dare. Beside the ornate grilled doorway of the carriage entrance of the Mayfair stood a gilt-and-black easel with the words, "Tango Tea at Four." Although it was considerably after that time, there was a line of taxi-cabs before the place and, inside, a brave array of late-afternoon and early-evening revellers.
The nice-looking gigolo seemed to be in great demand, but Orson J. succeeded in capturing him after the third dance. It turned out to be a tango, and though Mrs. Hubbell, pretty well scared, declared that she didn't know it and couldn't dance it, the nice-looking gigolo assured her, through the medium of Mary's interpretation, that Mrs. Hubbell had only to follow his guidance. It was quite simple.
The atmosphere's too chilly." It was insolent music, a taunt in every note. Carl laid aside his flute and inspected his prisoner with impudent interest. "You are the most difficult person to entertain!" he accused softly. "Here Hunch has strained a sinuous spine performing our beautiful native dances, the tango and the hesitation, and I've fluted up all the wind in the room and still you glower."
But at the top she permitted Tango to walk into the shade of a boulder that radiated heat like a stove but was still preferable to the blistering sunlight, and there she left him while she walked a little nearer the edge of the rimrock that topped the ridge on its southern side. Once more she scanned the sweltering expanse of sagebrush, scant grass, many rock patches and much sand.
So we packed our food, sacks, blankets, mackintoshes and the card-house as best we could on the remaining five horses. No sooner had we left the village, and all signs of road or bridle path, with a new policeman and two or three ragged Albanians, than one of the horses broke loose and began to dance first the tango, then the waltz.
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