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Show 15 . . .Dinah might Change her mind About me. . . . Swinging into a retreat, they danced off stage, and hiding for a moment behind a thicket, returned with a different rhythm, sliding twice before throwing out their hands. Dinah won't you blow your ho-o-orn - Grasping Louise by the waist, Phyllis backed her up, vaudeville-style, and they advanced toward the opening as to center-front. Dinah won't you blow-ow Dinah won't you blow-ow. . . They danced forward in unison, throwing their arms out, their voices growing louder, and nearing the opening bounded through as onto a stagia. And it might as well have been, for the beach was thick with Engineers, their faces turned toward the noise, their gaze startled and attentive. Did the sun dim? Louise felt a slight ringing in her ears, and looked around. But she hadn't reached the end of her revelation: in front of her stood Dinah herself, her head tipped slightly to one side, her eyebrows rising to a questioning peak, Louise and Phyllis stared, in consternation and confusion. They stopped, their pastures melting like wax in the sun, as Mrs Satterwhite's expression changed, moving from query through slyness to gentility. But only Phyllis could think of anything to say. "Oh blow," she murmured sotto voce to the trees. Mrs Satterwhite recovered first, and her sharp profile softened into a facsimile of cordiality. "Mrs Wilson! And Mrs Parker! How nice: we see you so seldom." She turned about, |