"You are as light as ever," he told her. He didn't like the inference; obviously she had been dancing long and often while he was gone.
"Forget it," said Laura, catching his thought. She put her forehead against his chin and sent his pulse racing.
Too soon the dance was over, and he followed her to their table. Guy offered Laura another cigarette, and as he was lighting it, a young man in evening clothes came over and greeted them with a cheery "Hello!"
Maynard went to his feet, but the stranger draped himself indolently into a chair which he lifted from a vacant table adjoining. Maynard shrugged, and sat down, feeling slightly overlooked.
"Hi, Laura, what brings you here?"
"He does," said Laura, nodding across the table to Guy. "Guy Maynard, this is Martin Ingalls."
Greetings were exchanged, and each man took the other's measure. "Senior executive, hey?" smiled Ingalls. "That's something!"
"Oh," said Maynard cheerfully, "they think I've been useful."
"Keep 'em thinking that," suggested Ingalls, "and you'll get along fine."
"He'll get along fine," offered Laura. "But what are you doing here?"