he dance," she exclaimed, looking up, "and you
need not tell me any more--"

"The what!"

"The dance, and I can read all--"

"Did we get two papers this morning?" Tom stammered, feeling cold about
the heart.

"No, I have the society sheet, and it tells what everybody wore--Why,
what is the matter with you, Tom? You look sick. You are not sick, are
you, Tom?" she asked, rising and coming over to him.

"No, no, I am not sick. I am all right. Go on and read the description
of the dresses; that will relieve me more than anything else. I'll not
have to think it all up."

"Oh, but you look sick."

"I am not; I am--I never was so well. See how strong I am. I can crush
that piece of paper up into a very small ball with my bare hands. I am
awfully strong."

"Oh, don't do that. There may be something in it that I want to read."

"No, there isn't. There's nothing in it. I read it through. I have an
idea. I'll tell you what let's do. Let's burn the paper and I'll tell
you what the women wore. These society notes are written beforehand and
are not authentic. The only way is to have it from an eye-witness.
Let's do it, will you?"

"No, I would rather read it. Aren't you sick, Tom? What makes your brow
so damp?"

"It's so hot, it's infernally hot in here."

"I thought it was rather cold. I saw you shiver a moment ago. Tom, you
_are_ sick. You must have eaten too much salad last night. You know you
can't eat salad."

"I didn't touch any salad. I only ate a frankfurter and drank a
high-ball--"

"A frankfurter and a high-ball! Why, what sort of refreshments did they
have?"

"I didn't mean that. I meant a canary-bird sandwich and a glass of
water."

"I know what it is then, Tom. You inhaled a lot of the smoke."

Tom took a long hard look at his wife. "What!" he almost screamed at
last.

"I say you have inhaled too much smoke. You have been smoking too much."

"Oh, that. Yes, I expect I have."

She looked at him with a twinkle in her eye as she sat on the arm of his
chair, holding to the back with her hands.

"Tom, I'll bet you are a great hero."

"I'll bet I'm not."

"I'll bet you are, and are too modest to admit it."

"Too modest to admit what?"

"Too modest to admit the heroic things you have done."

"I never did any."

"Yes, you did. I know you saved two or three people's lives at the risk
of your own."

"I haven't any medals."

"But you must have done something brave, and that's why you didn't