She stayed. Minutes ticked by. Jazz crooned distantly, stopped, struck up again. Other girls came and went. Still the gray-eyed girl sat on the couch, with her back to the wall and her shapely legs crossed, smoking cigarettes, one from the stub of another. After a long while she said, “Maid!” “Yes, miss?” “Peek out that door, will you, and see if there’s anyone standing there.” Mrs. Brady peeked, and reported that there was. There was a gentleman with a little bit of a black moustache standing there. The same gentleman, in fact, who was standing there “just after you come in.” “Oh, Lord,” sighed the gray-eyed girl. “Well ... I can’t stay here all _night_, that’s one sure thing.” She slid off the couch, and went listlessly to the dressing table. There she occupied herself for a minute or two. Suddenly, without a word, she darted out. Thirty seconds later Mrs. Brady was elated to find two crumpled one-dollar bills lying in her saucer. Her joy, however, died a premature death. For she made an almost simultaneous second discovery. A saddening one. Above all, a puzzling one. “Now what for,” marvelled Mrs. Brady, “did she want to walk off with them _scissors_?” This at twelve-twenty-five. At twelve-thirty a quartette of excited young things burst in, babbling madly. All of them had their evening wraps with them; all talked at once. One of them, a Dresden china girl with a heart-shaped face, was the centre of attention. Around her the rest fluttered like monstrous butterflies; to her they addressed their shrill exclamatory cries. “Babe,” they called her. Mrs. Brady heard snatches: “Not in this state unless....” “Well, you can in Maryland, Jimmy says.” “Oh, there must be some place nearer than....” “Isn’t this _marvellous_?” “When did it happen, Babe? When did you decide?” “Just now,” the girl with the heart-shaped face sang softly, “when we were dancing.” The babble resumed, “But listen, Babe, what’ll your mother and father...?” “Oh, never mind, let’s hurry.” “Shall we be warm enough with just these thin wraps, do you think? Babe, will you be warm enough? Sure?” Powder flew and little pocket combs marched through bright marcels. Flushed cheeks were painted pinker still. “My pearls,” said Babe, “are _old_. And my dress and my slippers are _new_. Now, let’s see--what can I _borrow_?” A lace handkerchief, a diamond bar pin, a pair of earrings were proffered. She chose the bar pin, and its owner unpinned it proudly, gladly. “I’ve got blue garters!” exclaimed another girl. “Give me one, then,” directed Babe. “I’ll trade with you.... There! That fixes that.” More babbling, “Hurry! Hurry up!” ... “Listen, are you _sure_ we’ll be warm enough? Because we can stop at my house, there’s nobody home.” “Give me that puff, Babe, I’ll powder your back.” “And just to think a week ago you’d never even met each other!” “Oh, hurry _up_, let’s get _started_!” “I’m ready.” “So’m I.” “Ready, Babe? You look adorable.” “Come on, everybody.”