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 cold; his arm encircled her and they danced, Oliver talking to her while she looked about.

For whom was she searching? she asked herself, perplexed; what actual memory had she of the man she had seen through the window with Adele? Like Ket, but not Ket, she reminded herself, but failed to restore any reliable image; and her own lies on the witness stand aided her confusion, for she had sworn that the man was short and dark and, though she had known she was lying, yet her own false words had made in her mind a picture which filmed over the true one which she tried to recall.

The music ceased; she returned with Oliver to their table and since he had forbidden verbal discussion of their purpose, he glanced his inquiry at her, and she shook her head.

"Let's have that," Oliver suggested, bidding her serve from the chafing-dish before her, and a few minutes later, when they were eating, he proposed, "Shall we go upstairs?"

Rooms for gambling and other purposes preëmpted the second floor, Joan Daisy had heard; and she had noticed at the further end of the hall a stairway upon which couples disappeared after dancing. Likely enough Baretta, if he were here, busied himself in some gaming room. She did not want to seek him upstairs; the idea set her aquiver, but she said, "All right."

Oliver, however, made no move, having thought better of his own rashness. "Never mind," he said and several minutes later he observed suddenly, while they were making talk of other matters, "We're all right where we are"; and she knew that Baretta had appeared.

He approached her from behind, she realized, as she gazed at Oliver; he seemed to be nearing her, not steadily, but by stages evidently interrupted by stops at tables of his friends. She heard their louder voices and laughter