sitated. "I stepped in to--to----"

The druggist opened a glass case. "Aw right," he said, blinking, and
tossed upon the counter a package of Orduma cigarettes. "Old Atwater'd
have convulsions, I reckon," he remarked, "if he had to lay awake and
listen to all that noise. Price ain't changed," he added, referring
humorously to the purchase he mistakenly supposed Noble wished to make.
"F'teen cents, same as yesterday and the day before."

Noble placed the sum upon the counter. "I--I was thinking----" He
gulped.

"Huh?" said the druggist placidly, for he was too sleepy to perceive the
strangeness of his customer's manner.

Noble lighted an Orduma with an unsteady hand, leaned upon the counter,
and inquired in a voice that he strove to make casual: "Is--is the soda
fountain still running this late?"

"Sure."

"I didn't know," said Noble. "I suppose you have more calls for soda
water than you do for--for--for real liquor?"

The druggist laughed. "Funny thing: I reckon we don't have more'n half
the calls for real liquor than what we used to before we went dry."

Noble breathed deeply. "I s'pose you probably sell quite a good deal of
it though, at that. By the glass, I mean--such as a glass of something
kind of strong--like--like whiskey. That is, I sort of supposed so. I
mean I thought I'd ask you about this."

"No," said the druggist, yawning. "It never did pay well--not on this
corner, anyhow. Once there used to be a little money in it, but not
much." He roused himself somewhat. "Well, it's about twelve. Anything
you wanted 'cept them Ordumas before I close up?"

Noble gulped again. He had grown pale. "_I_ want----" he said abruptly,
then his heart seemed to fail him. "I want a glass of----" Once more he
stopped and swallowed. His shoulders drooped, and he walked across to
the soda fountain. "Well," he said, "I'll take a chocolate sundae."

The thought of going back to Julia's party was unendurable, yet a return
was necessary on account of his new hat, the abandonment of which he did
not for a moment consider. But about half way, as he walked slowly
along, he noticed an old horse-block at the curbstone, and sat down
there. He could hear the music at Julia's, sometimes loud and close at
hand, sometimes seeming to be almost a mile away. "All right!" he said,
so bitter had he grown. "Dance! Go on and _dance_!"

... When finally he reentered Julia's gate, he shuffled up the walk, his
head drooping, and ascended th