59
The roller rink whirrs with their pass-
es. They skirr like gadgets in a galler-
y, their girlish flirtations fatuous and brass-
y, bulls-eyes for some smoking gunner.
Everywhere arms are cocked. The or-
gan booms tunefully. Reeling, they giggle or
grope at their skirts. The banging boys
trophy them away like kewpies.