But Dick, emitting a triumphant “Hoy!” won, and joined in the laughter as Paula took off one of her little champagne boots and added it to the heap in Lute’s lap.

“It’s all right, Aunt Martha,” Paula assured Mrs. Tully. “Mr. Ware’s not here, and he’s the only one who would be shocked. — Come on, Dick. You can’t win every time.”

“Jong-Keena, Jong-Keena,” she chanted on with her husband. The repetition, at first slow, had accelerated steadily, so that now they fairly rippled through with it, while their slapping, striking palms made a continuous patter. The exercise and excitement had added to the sun’s action on her skin, so that her laughing face was all a rosy glow.