"Say 'm, if you don't mind, and seeing's your ma is right here"—he referred to Madame Bonnivel who was slowly approaching on Mr. Dalton's arm—"I guess I'd better git out o' this crowd and go home, I ain't feeling very well and—good-night!"
He slipped aside without more ado, ducked his shock head, and, before she had time to collect her surprised senses, had melted away in the thinning swirls of humanity, and was gone.
"What! Deserted already?" laughed Mr. Dalton with malicious satisfaction, as he caught the expression on her face; but, softening instantly, he added, "Well, you're lucky! What I had expected was that you would never be rid of him till he had talked you bl—" He checked the word on his lips, remembering, his companion's affliction.
She laughed out merrily.
"How can one talk another blind? We should say deaf, I think. The blind always enjoy the merry clatter of tongues. Why did he leave, Joyce?"
"I don't just understand. He didn't feel well, he said."
"Oh, you overpowered him, Miss Lavillotte! He is not used to beauty and grandeur. I am a little afraid of it myself!" His own audacity, which surprised himself it was so unlike him, made George Dalton color like a girl, and he fairly shrank behind the Madame's tall figure to conceal his rising color. But Joyce did not notice. She was so intent on what she had just seen, as to be oblivious now. She took the dear lady's arm with a delightful sense of security, and observed in as matter-of-fact a way as she could assume:
"We'll have to wait, anyhow, for the people seem actually ravenous, poor things! I drew back to let them by, and thought we would go home——"
"No, you can come," cried Larry, bustling up to them. "Everybody is seated and I've found some extra chairs and a retired corner for you ladies, where you can see without being seen. Dalton and I will wait on you. Follow me."
He led them across a screened corner and seated them within one of the eating-rooms, nearly hidden behind the well-heaped table, which had been pushed back into an angle of the wall. As Joyce looked about her the Pole was nearly opposite, and sat gorging the large sandwich, handed him upon his plate, in a greedy manner that fairly horrified her. There was something animal-like, ghoulish even, in his clutching haste; yet it was pitiable, too.