His face was pale; there were unfamiliar lines about his mouth, and an unnatural glitter was in his eyes.
He saw the dancer, a man of age who wore the clothes of a laborer, fling himself heavily upon a frail chair at the nearest table, across which he leaned unsteadily, wagging his head and muttering incoherently.
Adams strode over to him and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
"Come," he said, quietly.
With an effort the man balanced his head and lifted his heavy eyes.
"Come," Adams repeated.
It was as though the youths at the other tables knew it to be a psychological moment. The noise subsided. Every eye in the room was intent upon Adams, strong in his splendid youth, and the man beside whom he stood and who was weak in his age.
Adams was seen to encircle the man's shoulders with one arm and fairly lift him from the chair. On his feet he was unsteady. Adams supported him to the door of the restaurant, which swung back noiselessly as the ill-mated couple disappeared.
Then were exchanged many glances among those who had watched the little play in silence.