Of course, how foolish to have forgotten! This was Anne's night at the opera, and she was having some people in afterwards. He had been invited to join them but had refused as usual. The hilarious horde was his particular abomination, and it was seldom that Anne could persuade him into one of these parties. She did not try very hard, for as the season progressed she herself had become utterly wearied with it all. It was only fear of appearing both snobbish and unkind which prevented her from breaking away altogether. And Alexis knew his presence made it more difficult. The malice of Ellen, who could not forgive Anne for not confiding in her, the jealousy of Gerald, created a tension. So, although always invited, Alexis' absence had evolved into a kind of unwritten law. But to-night was different. A desperate night, created for the breaking of all rules. A frantic, lawless night, lying between the boundaries of time like a savage bandit-ridden tract, dividing two civilized states. To-night all forms of excitement were unabhorrent, even the ribald efforts of the horde. At any rate, their presence would afford an opportunity to see Anne, to be near her, to breathe in the beloved atmosphere while she still remained unconscious of the barrier which had fallen between them forever. Fever surging in his veins, Alexis dismissed his taxi. Inside the house, there was the usual uproar of music and dancing. Unperceived for the moment, Alexis stood upon the threshold of the huge living room. His eyes flashed through the swirling couples, searching for Anne. But she was not upon the floor. Seated at the Steinway, Gerald was playing with delicate ferocity. His young, almost beautiful face, glowered cynically as he glanced at the dancers. Grotesque syncopations dripped from his swooping fingertips. Alexis started to wedge his way to the other end of the room. The eyes of the two men met with a shock. A smile distorted Gerald's lips. The music ceased almost discordantly. Everybody stopped dancing. For a moment the world stood still. "Look who's here!" In a flame-colored chiffon frock, Olive Fay darted up to Alexis. "Please dance with me, Mr. Petrovskey?" "Of course, that's what I came for!" His hard gaze hovered over her naked young shoulders. "But first, where is my hostess?" She pouted. "How old-fashioned of you to remember your hostess! But come along, Old Ironsides, if you must."