te!"

But Chilcote had gone, and through the silence came a muffled roar.

"The drum again!" he muttered irritably. "What the devil is the good
of trying to surprise the Huns if we have the band with us! You don't
want a band when you're attacking a village! A band is for marching
to, and dancing, not for fighting." Of course, if it was going to
continue playing, they might just as well have a dance, and be done
with it. He laughed a little. "You've had too much champagne for
supper, my boy," he soliloquised. "What do you mean by 'might as well
have a dance'? Can't you see that awe-inspiring gentleman in the red
coat is on the point of striking up now?" He looked across the room, a
room that seemed a trifle hazy, and thought hard. Surely he hadn't had
too much to drink, and yet the people were so vague and unreal? And
why the deuce did a ballroom band have a big drum? He gave it up after
a moment, and silently watched the scene.

He remembered now quite clearly, and with an amused laugh at his
momentary forgetfulness, he looked at his programme. The third supper
extra was just beginning, and two dances after that he had four in
succession with Molly--the fateful hour when he had determined to try
his luck.

At present she was having supper with a nasty-looking man, with long
hair and an eyeglass, who was reputed to be a rising politician, in the
running for an under-secretaryship, and was also reputed to be in love
with Molly. He looked savagely round the room, and, having failed to
discover them, he strolled to the bar to get a drink.

"Hallo, Billy; not dancing? She loves me; she loves me not! Cheer up,
dearie!"

An inane-looking ass raised his whisky-and-soda to his lips with a
fatuous cackle.

"I wonder they don't have a home for people like you, Jackson,"
remarked Billy curtly. "Whisky-and-soda, please."

He gave his order to the waiter and lit a cigarette. He hardly heard
what the irrepressible Jackson was saying, but allowed him to babble on
in peace while his thoughts centred on Molly. How absolutely sweet she
was looking in that shimmering, gauzy stuff that just went with her
hair, and showed off her figure to perfection! If only she said "yes,"
he'd arrange the party going back in the cars so that he got her alone
in the two-seater. If only--good lord, would the dance never come?

He looked up, and saw her passing into the ball-room with her supper
partner; and, as he did so, sh