He was still staring, still rapt.
Beulah Baxter ceased to look aloft.

She daintily reached for a wooden toothpick from the bowl before her and arose to pay her check at the near-by counter.

Merton Gill arose at the same moment and stumbled a blind way through the intervening tables.

When he reached the counter Miss Baxter was passing through the door.

He was about to follow her when a cool but cynical voice from the counter said, "Hey, Bill--ain't you fergittin' somepin'." He looked for the check for his meal; it should have been in one hand or the other.