He looked for Clay in the dancing whirl, There he was, coming down the line, Hand in hand with a dark, slim girl Whose dress was the color of light in wine Sally Dupré from Appleton Where the blackshawled ladies rock in the sun And young things labor and old things rule, A proud girl, taught in a humbling school That the only daughters of misalliance Must harden their hearts against defiance Of all the uncles and all the aunts Who succour such offspring of mischance And wash them clean from each sinful intention With the kindliest sort of incomprehension.