affording a certain amount of entertainment to the
observer: and after Ginger had left, she carried the morning paper to
the window-sill and proceeded to divide her attention between a third
reading of the fight-report and a lazy survey of the outer world. It was
a beautiful day, and the outer world was looking its best.

She had not been at her post for many minutes when a taxi-cab stopped
at the apartment-house, and she was surprised and interested to see her
brother Fillmore heave himself out of the interior. He paid the driver,
and the cab moved off, leaving him on the sidewalk casting a large
shadow in the sunshine. Sally was on the point of calling to him, when
his behaviour became so odd that astonishment checked her.

From where she sat Fillmore had all the appearance of a man practising
the steps of a new dance, and sheer curiosity as to what he would do
next kept Sally watching in silence. First, he moved in a resolute sort
of way towards the front door; then, suddenly stopping, scuttled back.
This movement he repeated twice, after which he stood in deep thought
before making another dash for the door, which, like the others, came
to an abrupt end as though he had run into some invisible obstacle. And,
finally, wheeling sharply, he bustled off down the street and was lost
to view.

Sally could make nothing of it. If Fillmore had taken the trouble to
come in a taxi-cab, obviously to call upon her, why had he abandoned the
idea at her very threshold? She was still speculating on this mystery
when the telephone-bell rang, and her brother's voice spoke huskily in
her ear.

"Sally?"

"Hullo, Fill. What are you going to call it?"

"What am I... Call what?"

"The dance you were doing outside here just now. It's your own
invention, isn't it?"

"Did you see me?" said Fillmore, upset.

"Of course I saw you. I was fascinated."

"I--er--I was coming to have a talk with you. Sally..."

Fillmore's voice trailed off.

"Well, why didn't you?"

There was a pause--on Fillmore's part, if the timbre of at his voice
correctly indicated his feelings, a pause of discomfort. Something was
plainly vexing Fillmore's great mind.

"Sally," he said at last, and coughed hollowly into the receiver.

"Yes."

"I--that is to say, I have asked Gladys... Gladys will be coming to see
you very shortly. Will you be in?"

"I'll stay in. How is Gladys? I'm longing to see her again."

"She is very well. A trifle--a little upset