“I behaved very badly the other night. You see, I . . . I don’t dance.”
“Really?” Mary raised her brows, unconvinced. “Your brothers dance very well. In fact, they each partnered with me.”
“Yes, we had a dancing master, but I was a poor student. You see, I have rather large feet.”
Mary followed George’s gaze down to his sturdy brown shoes.
“They don’t look exceptionally large.”
“Well, they must be, because I have a tendency to trip over them whenever I dance.”
“I see how that could be a problem.” Mary smiled.
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