Page:Glitter (1926).pdf/279

"I am not forgetting," murmured Mrs. Hamill.

There was another pause, heavy and uncomfortable. Then Jock sauntered toward the door, attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to sound natural as he said, "Well, guess I'd better step, it's after six. Ladies and gentlemen: exit the boy banjoist in the performance of his duties!"

The evening, given a bad start, went more and more awry as it proceeded.

Jock and Yvonne reached Terrace Tavern at seven o'clock, to find the red-and-black playground already filling with men and women, and smoke, and whisky and gin. The crowd seemed to be made up for the most part of people who had been celebrating New Year's for twenty-four hours without cessation, and who were now either violently disorderly or very nearly: comatose. The atmosphere was even more jaded than usual, the faces more drawn, the laughter more metallic. From their scarlet nook Happy Hatton's players sent forth a listless syncopation, and about the oval floor couples jogged drearily, doggedly, as though forced to foxtrot much against their will. The whole scene, after the night before, savored of anticlimax.

Jock and Yvonne took a table for four and there waited, saying little. Yvonne was too weary to talk, she averred, and Jock was too preoccupied. He sat idly pouring salt, watching his fingers mold it into infinitesimal hills . . . thinking many deep and troublous things.

After quite a long time he said unexpectedly, "Dear, let's not wait till February. Let's get married right