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her shoulders, and Johnny handed her a drink, and someone else proffered cigarettes, and the crap shooters shifted to make room for her. And in a few minutes more she was down among them on the floor, leaning on one palm, shaking the dice in the other, her wavy brown hair half hiding her cheeks as she bent to see whether or not she got that "Ada from Decatur" she had cried for.

Through all this Jock stood quietly watching; and his were sensations like unto those of a parent whose offspring performs creditably, even brilliantly, at a public entertainment. "I knew it!" he crowed in secret. "Takes to 'em like a duck to water—and they to her!" He continued to watch her, entirely unconscious of himself. She lost the dice and sat up straight, a slim, supple figure in modish green, with a noteworthy ankle and calf showing beyond the hem of the green skirt. Larry Vane, who sat next her, said something to her in an aside and she laughed, throwing her head back. That line of her throat . . . entrancing . . . Larry looked as if he thought so too. . . .

"Jock," said Peg's voice plaintively, "are you going to stand around till doomsday in that overcoat?" And, as he slid out of the coat with guilty haste, there were chuckles and pointed remarks. He saw that his engrossed attention to Cecily had been misinterpreted, and he was confused and angry. "They ought to know better than that!" he told himself peevishly. "They all know about Yvonne. Do they think I'm one of the two-time boys, for heaven's sake?"

After that he took pains not to gaze too often or too long in her direction; but he contrived to miss nothing.

The crap game gave way in time to informal dancing. Rugs were rolled up, chairs sent spinning into corners,