es on you----"

"I _don't_ know _anything_, Duane! How perfectly horrid of you!"

"Well, you've scared me!"

"I haven't. You're laughing at me. You know well enough that I don't
know the things you know."

"What are they, in Heaven's name?"

"Things--experiences--matters that concern life--the world, men,
everything!"

"You wouldn't be interesting if you knew such things," he said. She
thought there was the same curious hint of indifference, something of
listlessness, almost fatigue in the expression of his eyes. And again,
apparently apropos of nothing, she found herself thinking of what
Kathleen had said about this man.

"I don't understand you," she said, looking at him.

He smiled, and the ghost of a shadow passed from his eyes.

"I was talking at random."

"I don't think you were."

"Why not?"

She shook her head, drawing a long, quiet breath. Silent, lips resting
in softly troubled curves, she thought of what Kathleen had said about
this man. _What_ had he done to disgrace himself?

A few moments later she rose with decision.

"Come," she said, unconsciously imperious.

He looked across the room and saw Dysart.

"But I haven't begun to tell you--" he began; and she interrupted
smilingly:

"I know enough about you for a while; I have learned that you are a very
wonderful young man and that I'm inclined to like you. You will come to
see me, won't you?... No, I can't remain here another second. I want to
go to Kathleen. I want you to ask her to dance, too.... Please don't
urge me, Duane. I--this is my first dinner dance--yes, my very first.
And I _don't_ intend to sit in corners--I wish to dance; I desire to be
happy. I want to see lots and lots of men, not just one.... You don't
know all the lonely years I must make up for every minute now, or you
wouldn't look at me in such a sulky, bullying way.... Besides--do you
think I find you a compensation for all those delightful people out
yonder?"

He glanced up and saw Dysart still watching them. Suddenly he dropped
his hand over hers.

"Perhaps you may find that compensation in me some day," he said. "How
do you know?"

"What a silly thing to say! Don't paw me, Duane; you hurt my hand. Look
at what you've done to my fan!"

"It came between us. I'm sorry for anything that comes between us."

Both were smiling fixedly; he said nothing for a moment; their gaze
endured until she flinched.

"Silly," she said, "you are trying to tyrannise over