he acetylenes. Come on; we'll all
light up later. Make him come, Dolly."

Hamil turned to speak to her. She seemed to be, at a casual glance, the
sort of young girl who usually has a mother somewhere within ear-shot.
Upon inspection, however, her bright hair was a little too perfectly
rippled, and her mouth a trifle fuller and redder than a normal
circulation might account for. But there remained in the eyes something
as yet unquenched. And looking at her, he felt a sense of impatience and
regret that the delicate youth of her should be wasted in the flare and
shadow of the lesser world--burning to a spectre here on the crumbling
edge of things--here with Malcourt leering at her through the disordered
brilliancy of that false dawn which heralds only night.

They spoke together, smilingly formal. He had quietly turned his back on
Malcourt.

She hoped he would remain and join them; and her as yet unspoiled voice
clashed with her tinted lips and hair.

He was sorry--politely so--thanking her with the natural and unconscious
gentleness so agreeable to all women. And as in his manner there was not
the slightest hint of that half-amused, half-cynical freedom
characteristic of the worldly wise whom she was now accustoming herself
to meet, she looked up at him with a faint flush of appreciation.

Malcourt all the while was pulling Hamil by the elbow and talking on at
random almost boisterously, checking himself at intervals to exchange
familiar greetings with new-comers passing the crowded corridor. His
face was puffy and red; so were his lips; and there seemed to be a shiny
quality to hair and skin prophetic of future coarsening toward a type,
individuals of which swarmed like sleek flies around the gaming-tables
beyond.

As Hamil glanced from the young girl to Malcourt, who was still noisily
importuning him, a sudden contempt for the man arose within him. So
unreasoningly abrupt was the sensation of absolute distrust and dislike
that it cut his leave-taking to a curt word of refusal, and he turned on
his heel.

"What's the matter with you? Aren't you coming with us?" asked Malcourt,
reddening.

"No," said Hamil. "Good-bye, Miss Wilming. Thank you for asking me."

She held out her hand, uncertainly; he took it with a manner so gentle
and considerate that she ventured, hesitatingly, something about seeing
him again. To which he replied, pleasantly conventional, and started
toward the door.

"See here, Hamil," said