Then right in the middle of it the door opened and Mardi walked in.
I saw her at once, and I couldn’t believe my eyes. Standing behind her was a tall guy with a lot of wavy hair and the sort of brown complexion that dames fall for and, of course, very bright blue eyes. This guy was handsome all right.
I stared at Mardi through the haze of tobacco smoke and thought I was seeing things. I said cautiously to Hughson: “Who’s the dame?”
He got off my chair arm. “I don’t know, but I’m goin’ to find out… she’s a peach, ain’t she?”
He went over and shook hands with the tall guy. Then he had a few words with Mardi. I was suddenly aware that I was pretty high, and I was sorry about it. I was feeling a little sore about the tall guy. That didn’t look so good.
Hughson had stopped them dancing and was taking the two round introducing them. I got out of my chair and put my tie straight. They got round to me at last. In the confusion of the crowd and the thickness of the atmosphere, Mardi hadn’t seen me. Now she was standing right in front of me. We looked at each other and her face went white.
Hughson was saying: “You must meet Nick… you’ll like this guy. He’s done, more for the Women’s Friendly Societies than most men. The trouble is he gets too friendly so they give him the gate in the end.”
I wasn’t listening to what he said. Mardi was trying to tell me something without speaking. Her eyes were wide and she looked scared; then, seeing that I was still dumb, she said: “Why haven’t I met you before?”
I got it all right then. For some reason or other she didn’t want to let on she knew me.
I said: “You’ve got your chance now and I’m hoping you won’t be disappointed.” It was a lame comeback, but I was up-creek without a paddle.