and the
flattery. His collar grew tight, perspiration beaded his brow, and he
began to cough.

"Effects of mustard-gas," Papa Claude explained in a stage whisper.

For seeming hours the agony endured, until the advent of refreshments
caused a momentary diversion, and he made a hasty bolt for Eleanor and
freedom.

He found her sitting on the divan, looking rather bored by the attentions
of a stout elderly person with small porcine eyes and a drooping black
mustache. Without troubling to apologize, Quin interrupted the
conversation to say abruptly:

"Miss Nell, I am going."

Eleanor started to rise, but the red-faced one lifted a protesting voice.

"See here, young man," he blustered. "You can't run off with this little
girl just when I've got my first chance at her this evening. She's going
to stay right here and let me make love to her--isn't she?"

He turned a confident eye upon Eleanor, and even ventured to lay a plump
detaining finger on her cool, slim wrist.

Eleanor rose instantly.

"I thought you were never coming!" she said impatiently over the stout
man's head, "I've been ready to go for an hour!"

CHAPTER 30

Down in the open square, under the clear cool stars, they looked at each
other and laughed.

"Lead me to a bus!" cried Quin. "I want to ride on top of it where the
wind can blow through my whiskers. My head feels like a joss-house!"

"Oh, but you were funny!" cried Eleanor. "I wish you could have seen your
face when all those women swarmed around you. I was afraid you were going
to jump out of the window! Did you ever feel anything so hot and stuffy
as that room? And weren't they all silly and make-believe?"

Quin gave a mighty sigh of relief at being out of it.

"Is this the sort of thing you get let in for often?" he inquired,
aghast.

"Oftener than I like. You see, all those people are Papa Claude's old
friends, and he's been having a lovely time showing me off as he showed
you off to-night."

"But you surely don't _like_ it?"

"Of course I don't. And they know it. They are already calling me a prig,
and poking fun at me for not smoking and for not liking to have my hands
patted and my cheeks pinched. Isn't it funny, Quin? At home I was always
miserable because there were too many barriers; I wanted to tear them all
down. Here, where there aren't any, I find myself building them up at
every turn, and getting furious when people climb over the