Maurice Rodaine, attired in a mauve frock suit and the inevitable accompanying beaver, had stopped to talk to some one at the door.

She stood alone, looking about the hall, laughing and nodding,--and then she looked at him! Fairchild did not wait.
From the platform at the end of the big room the fiddles had begun to squeak, and the caller was shouting his announcements.

Couples began to line up on the floor.

The caller's voice grew louder: "Two more couples--two more couples! Grab yo' podners!" Fairchild was elbowing his way swiftly forward, apologizing as he went.
A couple took its place beside the others.

Once more the plea of the caller sounded: "One more couple--then the dance starts.