The music ended with a long
flourish just as they whirled to a stop in a corner of the room. At
once an eddy of men started toward them.
"Who shall it be?" smiled Pierre. "With whom do you want to dance?
It's your triumph, Jack."
She was alight and alive with the victory, and her eyes roved over the
crowd.
"The big man with the tawny hair."
"But he's making right past us."
"No; he'll turn and come back."
"How do you know?"
For answer she glanced up and laughed, and he realized with a singular
sense of loneliness that she knew many things which were beyond his
ken. Someone touched his arm, and a voice, many voices, beset him.
"How's the chances for a dance with the girl, partner?"
"This dance is already booked," Pierre answered, and kept his eyes on
the tall man with the scarred face and the resolute jaw. He wondered
why Jacqueline had chosen such a partner.
At least she had prophesied correctly, for the big man turned toward
them just as he seemed about to head for another part of the hall.
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