"That's sensible," she said. "We're only young once," and she let her head rest on his shoulder, her soft hair warmly clouding his cheek. The next moment he was holding her with all the strength of his lissome young body, and laughed delightedly when she winced at his ardour. Yes, he was only young once. "_--way down in Tennessee,_" whined the gramophone. Only a few were dancing now. Little bursts of laughter and chatter came from dusky groups around the studio. It was all rather unearthly in that aromatic atmosphere. Some one wound up the gramophone and put on a new record-- "_While shepherds watched their flocks by night All seated on the--_" "Oh, stop it," came a voice, and there was a laugh all round. "Got 'em mixed," responded another. "Here's 'In Alabama'--how's that?" The gramophone whirred on, and the dancing began again. It was nearly three when the guests began to depart. John knew none of them. He had not seen their faces clearly all the night, but they somehow knew his name was "Scissors," and treated him familiarly. Most of the men were about his own age, the women a little older. The humourist of the party, whom they called "The Doc" was about forty-five and seemed to father the assembly. "Don't go yet," said Tilly as she stood by the door. "I'm not a bit sleepy and I want to talk." He stood aside and let the others go. At last only one girl remained. John came back to earth abruptly. "Where's Mr. Adams--I haven't seen him all the evening." "Harry?--oh, I don't know--he comes in when he likes," replied Tilly, drawing up a chair to the anthracite stove. She began talking to the other girl Fanny, who presently rose and said, "Good night," disappearing into another room. "Is she staying with you?" asked John. "Who--Fanny?--no, we live here together. She's getting married next week, poor kid, to a little blighter. Lord knows why she picked him--or why any girl marries at all." "But--you're married!" said John, surprised. She stared at him. "Married--whatever makes you think that?" "I thought Mr. Adams--" Tilly interrupted him with a short laugh. "You've been listening to gossip. Everybody says I'm going to marry him--but I say not. I'm not going to keep any man, and that's what marrying a man of genius means." But John cared nothing for the philosophy. He was relieved, for the last two hours he had felt an unmitigated bounder. A new cheerfulness swept over him, and Tilly noticed it. "Why, you're waking up--you've been like a bear with a sore head!" "I'm sorry," he said, simply. "All right, Scissors!" She slid on to her knees at his feet. "And kissing's no harm," she sighed, looking up into his face. "And oh, I'm so lonely at times!"