She nearly smiled. “No, with another girl.”

“Do I know her?”

She pursed her lips. “I doubt it.” A moment more of hesitation, then: “Her name is Deane, Betty Deane.”

“I've heard that name. Yes, I've seen her—at the Black and White ball this winter! A blonde—pretty—went as a Picabia dancer.”

They were mounting the steps to the sidewalk (for Jim's is a basement).

“Good-by,” said she. “Will you come—to-night or to-morrow?”

“Yes,” said he. “To-night.” And walked in a daze back to the rooms on Washington Square.


CHAPTER II—THE SEVENTH-STORY MEN