"
Edith looked up quickly.
"Yes, I went up with him twice--to the Pump and Slipper and the Junior
prom."
"You've seen him, of course," said Dean carelessly. "He's here
to-night. I saw him just a minute ago."
Edith started. Yet she had felt quite sure he would be here.
"Why, no, I haven't--"
A fat man with red hair cut in.
"Hello, Edith," he began.
"Why--hello there--"
She slipped, stumbled lightly.
"I'm sorry, dear," she murmured mechanically.
She had seen Gordon--Gordon very white and listless, leaning against
the side of a doorway, smoking, and looking into the ballroom. Edith
could see that his face was thin and wan--that the hand he raised to
his lips with a cigarette, was trembling. They were dancing quite
close to him now.
"--They invite so darn many extra fellas that you--" the short man was
saying.
"Hello, Gordon," called Edith over her partner's shoulder. Her heart
was pounding wildly.
His large dark eyes were fixed on her. He took a step in her
direction. Her partner turned her away--she heard his voice
bleating----
"--but half the stags get lit and leave before long, so--" Then a low
tone at her side.
"May I, please?"
She was dancing suddenly with Gordon; one of his arms was around her;
she felt it tighten spasmodically; felt his hand on her back with the
fingers spread. Her hand holding the little lace handkerchief was
crushed in his.
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