Quin | Page 3

Grundy evidently whispered "Don't" in one ear
and instinct whispered "Do" in the other. It lasted but a second, for the
next thing Quin knew, a small gloved hand was slipped into his, a blue
plume was tickling his nose, and he was gliding a bit unsteadily into
Paradise.

What his heart might do after that dance was of absolutely no
consequence to him. It could beat fast or slow, or even stop altogether,
if it would only hold out as long as the music did. Round and round
among the dancers he guided his dainty partner, carefully avoiding the
entrance end of the hall, and devoutly praying that his clumsy army
shoes might not crush those little high-heeled brown pumps tripping so
deftly in and out between them. He was not used to dancing with
officers' girls, and he held the small gray-gloved hand in his big fist as
if it were a bird about to take flight.
Next to the return of the Captain, he dreaded that other dancers, seeing
his prize, would try to capture her; but there was a certain tempered
disdain in the poise of his little partner's head, an ability to put up a
quick and effective defense against intrusion, that protected him as
well.
Neither of them spoke until the music stopped, and then they stood
applauding vociferously, with the rest, for an encore.
"I ought to go," said the Radiant Presence, with a guilty glance upward
from under long eyelashes. "You don't see a very cross-looking Captain
charging around near the door, do you?"
"No," said Quin, without turning his head, "I don't see him"--and he
smiled as he said it.
Now, Quin's smile was his chief asset in the way of looks. It was a
leisurely smile, that began far below the surface and sent preliminary
ripples up to his eyes and the corners of his big mouth, and broke
through at last in a radiant flash of good humor. In this case it met a
very prompt answer under the big hat.
"You see, I'm not supposed to be dancing," she explained rather
condescendingly.
"Nor me, either," said Quin, breathing heavily.
Then the band decided to be accommodating, and the saxophone

decided to out-jazz the piano, and the drum got its ambition roused and
joined in the competition, and the young couple who were not supposed
to be dancing out-danced everything on the floor!
Quin's heart might have adjusted itself to that first dance, but the
rollicking encore, together with the emotional shock it sustained every
time those destructive eyes were trained upon him, was too much for it.
"Say, would you mind stopping a bit?--just for a second?" he gasped,
when his breath seemed about to desert him permanently.
"You surely aren't tired?" scoffed the young lady, lifting a pair of finely
arched eyebrows.
"No; but, you see--as a matter of fact, ever since I was gassed----"
"Gassed!"
The word acted like a charm. The girl's sensitive face, over which the
expressions played like sunlight on water, softened to instant sympathy,
and Quin, who up to now had been merely a partner, suddenly found
himself individual.
"Did you see much actual service?" she asked, her eyes wide with
interest.
"Sure," said Quin, bracing himself against a post and trying to keep his
breath from coming in jerks; "saw sixteen months of it."
Her quick glance swept from the long scar on his forehead to the bar on
his breast.
"What do all those stars on the rainbow ribbon mean?" she demanded.
"Major engagements," said Quin diffidently.
"And the silver one in the middle?"
"A citation," He glanced around to make sure none of the other boys

were near, then confessed, as if to a crime: "That's where I got my
medal."
"Come over here and sit down this minute," she commanded. "You've
got to tell me all about it."
It would be very pleasant to chronicle the fact that our hero modestly
declined to take advantage of the opportunity thus offered. But it must
be borne in mind that, his heart having failed him at a critical hour, he
had to fall back upon his tongue as the only means at hand of detaining
the Celestial Being who at any moment might depart. With what breath
he had left he told his story, and, having a good story to tell, he did it
full justice. Sometimes, to be sure, he got his pronouns mixed, and once
he lost the thread of his discourse entirely; but that was when he
became too conscious of those star-like eyes and the flattering
absorption of the little lady who for one transcendent moment was
deigning "to love him for the dangers he had passed." With unabated
interest and curiosity she drank in every detail of his