"Everything, Billy."
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE COLORS ENTWINE.
She was talking brightly with a knot of half a dozen young officers, all clamoring for "extras," when, soft and sweet, the strains of "Immortellen," that loveliest of Gungl's waltzes, floated on the air, and Ray stood there before her.
"My waltz, Miss Sanford. Can I claim you in face of such an array of aspirants?"
She rested her hand on his arm, nodding blithely to the group, and calling laughingly back to them as he led her away. Then she noticed how silent he was, and for the first time looked up in his face.
"You have not been dancing, Mr. Ray?"
"No, Miss Marion; and it was a piece of selfishness in me to ask this. I have not danced since coming back from the Cheyenne, and yet—I could not go without one. Shall we try?"