The only person who did not appear to be concerned was Ginger himself. He gathered up his loot, thrust it into his pocket, and elbowed his way to where Sally stood, now definitely established in the eyes of the crowd as a pariah. There was universal regret that he had decided to call it a day. It was to the spectators as though a star had suddenly walked off the stage in the middle of his big scene; and not even a loud and violent quarrel which sprang up at this moment between two excitable gamblers over a disputed five-franc counter could wholly console them. “I say,” said Ginger, dexterously plucking Sally out of the crowd, “this is topping, meeting you like this. I've been looking for you everywhere.” “It's funny you didn't find me, then, for that's where I've been. I was looking for you.” “No, really?” Ginger seemed pleased. He led the way to the quiet ante-room outside the gambling-hall, and they sat down in a corner. It was pleasant here, with nobody near except the gorgeously uniformed attendant over by the door. “That was awfully good of you.” “I felt I must have a talk with you before my train went.” Ginger started violently. “Your train? What do you mean?” “The puff-puff,” explained Sally. “I'm leaving to-night, you know.” “Leaving?” Ginger looked as horrified as the devoutest of the congregation of which Sally had just ceased to be a member. “You don't mean leaving? You're not going away from Roville?” “I'm afraid so.” “But why? Where are you going?” “Back to America. My boat sails from Cherbourg tomorrow.” “Oh, my aunt!” “I'm sorry,” said Sally, touched by his concern. She was a warm-hearted girl and liked being appreciated. “But...” “I say...” Ginger Kemp turned bright scarlet and glared before him at the uniformed official, who was regarding their tête-à-tête with the indulgent eye of one who has been through this sort of thing himself. “I say, look here, will you marry me?” 2 Sally stared at his vermilion profile in frank amazement. Ginger, she had realized by this time, was in many ways a surprising young man, but she had not expected him to be as surprising as this. “Marry you!” “You know what I mean.” “Well, yes, I suppose I do. You allude to the holy state. Yes, I know what you mean.” “Then how about it?” Sally began to regain her composure. Her sense of humour was tickled. She looked at Ginger gravely. He did not meet her eye, but continued to drink in the uniformed official, who was by now so carried away by the romance of it all that he had begun to hum a love-ballad under his breath. The official could not hear what they were saying, and would not have been able to understand it even if he could have heard; but he was an expert in the language of the eyes. “But isn't this--don't think I am trying to make difficulties--isn't this a little sudden?” “It's got to be sudden,” said Ginger Kemp, complainingly. “I thought you were going to be here for weeks.”