A jazzy concert of piano and string music in the social hall annoyed him, and a little later he watched the dancing with such grimness that someone remarked about it.

He saw Rossland whirling round the floor with a handsome, young blonde in his arms.

The girl was looking up into his eyes, smiling, and her cheek lay unashamed against his shoulder, while Rossland's face rested against her fluffy hair when they mingled closely with the other dancers.

Alan turned away, an unpleasant thought of Rossland's association with Mary Standish in his mind.

He strolled down into the steerage.