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 "Go ahead, go ahead—don't mind me. I think I'll go up to bed. Order what you want and put it on my bill."

Paul bristled, but Gritty seemed not to notice the man's crudeness. She left Krauss at the door of the lift and accompanied Paul to the ball-room.

"Oh, Paul!" she squealed. "Isn't it the most exciting old world that ever was!"

He patted her arm and made a passage for her through the throng. He remembered the day when Gritty would have elbowed a way through for him. In the doorway he met Pat, recently returned from a much-needed vacation in Luxor, and introduced him as his "boss." Gritty granted the astonished and delighted Irishman the "dance after next."

Public interest in Gritty had been enhanced by the scene in the lounge, and Paul suddenly realized that he was dancing with a woman whose name must be well known in the theatrical world, a woman, moreover, who, knowing she would be recognized, had been defiant enough of public opinion to travel abroad with her manager. How like Gritty! The same old tomboy at heart. Now he understood the boycott, and chuckled. He thought of some exclusive functions that were to be held within the next few days, and resolved to take Gritty to them. What a pat gesture for his farewell to Cairo! He revolved his plans quite in the spirit in which he and Gritty, twelve years previously, had waggled their fingers at the parson's back.

He had never danced with a woman who moved so easily. Her body was compact and flexible, like a sheet of steel. She was obviously a professional dancer, and he thrilled at his privilege. Here and there he caught faintly derisive glances from ladies of his acquaintance who would never have bared their own backs.

To punish them and to punish the transatlantic