“Stop your kiddin’!”

Spike half dragged his fearful charge across the floor, not too subtly shouldered a way between Bill Bardin and Terry Stamper, bowed gracefully to the strange beauty, and said, “Hello, sister!  Shake hands with my friend, Kid Cowan.”

“Pleased to meet you!” She smiled graciously upon Wilbur and extended a richly jewelled hand, which he timidly pressed.  Then she turned to Spike Brennon.  “I know your name, all right,” she declared.  “You’re that Mister Fresh we hear so much about—­giving introductions to parties you ain’t met yourself.”

Wilbur Cowan blushed for Spike’s faux pas, looking to see him slink off abashed, but there were things he had yet to learn about his friend.

“Just for that,” said Spike, “I’ll take this dance with you.”  And brazenly he encircled her waist as the music came anew.

“It’s hot to-night,” said Wilbur very simply to Terry Stamper and Bill Bardin as they moved off the floor to an open window.

His dancing eyes followed Beauty in the dance, and he was at her side when the music ceased.  Until it came again he fanned by an open window her flushed and lovely face.  Her name was Pearl.

“I wish this night would last forever,” he murmured to her.

“Tut, tut!” said Pearl in humorous dismay, “and me having to be at business at seven A.M.!”

Only then did he learn that she was not a mere social butterfly, but one of the proletariat; that, in truth, she waited on table at the Mansion.  Instantly he constructed their future together.  He would free her from that life of toil.

“You’re too beautiful for work like that,” he told her.

Pearl eyed him with sudden approval.

“You’re all right, kid.  I often said the same thing myself, but no one’s fell for it up to date.”

They danced, and again they danced.

“You’re the nicest boy in the bunch,” murmured Pearl.

“I never saw any one so beautiful,” said Wilbur.

Pearl smiled graciously.  “I love the sound of your voice,” she said.

She was wrested from him by Bill Bardin.  When he would have retrieved her Terry Stamper had secured her notice.  So through another dance he stood aloof against the wall, moody now.  It might be only social finesse in Pearl but she was showing to others the same pleased vivacity she had shown to him.  Could it be she did not yet understand?  Had she possibly not divined that they two were now forever apart from the trivial world?  They danced again.

“Don’t you feel as if we’d always known each other?” he demanded.

“Sure, kid!” breathed Pearl.

It was after still another dance—­she had meantime floated in the arms of a mere mill foreman.  This time he led her into the dusky hallway, where open windows brought the cool night to other low-voiced couples.  He led her to the farthest window, where the shadow was deepest, and they looked out-above the roof of Rapp Brothers, Jewellery-to a sky of pale stars and a blond moon.