"I was telling Mrs. Dorn you were a bomb-thrower or something," Meredith announced. His good spirits frisked about the table like a troupe of frolicsome puppies. "Only an apprentice," Tesla's soft voice--a voice like his hands--answered. "But why talk of such things in the presence of a beautiful lady." He bowed his head at her. She thought, "An unbearable man, completely out of place. How in the world could Eddie...." The music had changed. Muted cornets, banjos and saxophones were wailing out a tom-tom adagio. People were rising from tables and moving toward a dancing space. Eddie stood beside her bowing with elaborate stiffness. "My next dance, Miss Winthrop." Anna looked up blankly. "Good Lord, have you forgotten your own name? Come on. You know Dorn, don't you, Emil? Well, throw a fork at him when he shows up. Come, we haven't danced together for ten years. The last time was...." "The last time was the senior prom," Anna interrupted quickly. "You see I haven't forgotten." She stood mechanically. As they walked between tables and diners, he said, "I sure feel like a boy again seeing you." "I'm afraid I've almost forgotten how to dance, Eddie. My husband doesn't dance much." "Here we are! Like old days, eh? Remember Jimmie Goodland, my deadly rival for your hand?" They were dancing. "Well, he's married. Three kids." "And how many children have you, Eddie?" "Me?" He laughed. "Have I forgotten to tell you that? Well, I'm still at large, untrammeled, free. There've been women, but not _the_ woman." His voice put on a pleasing facetiousness. "Mustn't mind an old friend getting sentimental. But after you they had to measure up to something--and didn't." Since the night Erik had singled her out at the party no man had spoken to her that way. She listened slightly amazed. It confused her. His eyes, as they danced, were jolly and polite. But they watched her too keenly. Erik might misunderstand. Her love somehow resented being looked at and spoken to like that. She hurried back to their first topic. "What became of Millie Pugh, Eddie?" "Married. A Spaniard or something. Two kids and an automobile. Saw them in Brazil somewhere." "And Arthur Stearns?" "Fatter than an alderman. Runs a gas works or something in Detroit. Married. One kid." Anna laughed. "You sound like an almanac of dooms." "Well, all married but me--little Eddie, the boy bachelor, faithful unto death to the memories of his childhood. Do you remember the night we ran Mazurine's out of ice-cream?" This was another world, another Anna. She closed her eyes dreamily to the movement of the dance and music--delicious drugs. "Faster," she whispered. They broke into quicker steps. "Erik.... Erik.... my own. Love me again. Come back to me...." Still in her thought, but fainter, deeper down. Not words but a sigh that moved to the rhythm of the music. "And how may children have you?"