As Derry had said, all the world of Washington was at the ball. The President and his wife in a flag-draped box, she in black with a turquoise fan, he towering a little above her, more than President in these autocratic days of war. They looked down on men in the uniforms of the battling world--Scot and Briton and Gaul--in plaid and khaki and horizon blue--. They looked down on women knitting. Mrs. Witherspoon and a party of young people sat in a box adjoining Derry's. Ralph was there and Alma Drew, and Alma was more than ever lovely in gold-embroidered tulle. Ralph knew what had happened when he saw Jean dancing with Derry. There was no mistaking the soft raptures of the youthful pair. In the days to come Ralph was to suffer wounds, but none to tear his heart like this. And so when he danced with Jean a little later he did not spare her. "A man with money always gets what he wants." "I don't know what you mean." "I think you do. You are going to marry Derry Drake." She shrank at this. She had in her meetings with Derry never looked beyond the bliss of the moment. To have Ralph's rough fingers tearing at the veil of her future was revolting. She breathed quickly. "I shan't dance with you, if you speak of it again." "You shall dance with me," grimly, "this moment is my own--" She was like wax in his strong arms. "Oh, how dare you." She was cold with auger. "I want to stop." "And I could dance forever. That's the irony of it--that I cannot make you. But if I had Drake's money, I'd make you." "Do you think it is his money?" "Perhaps not. But the world will think it." "If--if he wanted me, I'd marry him if he were a beggar in the streets." "Has it gone as far as that? But you wouldn't marry a beggar. A troubadour beneath your balcony, yes. But not a beggar. You'd want him silken and blond and singing, and staying at home while other men fought--" She stopped at once. "If you knew what you were talking about; I'd never speak to you again. But because I was fool enough once to believe that Derry Drake was a coward, I am going to forgive you. But I shall not dance with you again; ever--" Making her way back alone to the box, she saw with a throb of relief that her father had joined Emily and Marion Gray. He uttered a quick exclamation as she came up. "What's the matter, daughter?" Her throat was dry. "I can't tell you now--there are too many people. It was Ralph. I hate him, Daddy." "My dear--" "I do." "But why?" "Please, I don't want to talk about it--wait until we get home." Looking out over the heads of the swaying crowd, she saw that Derry was dancing with Alma Drew. And it was Alma who had said at the Witherspoon dinner, "Everybody will forgive a man with money." And that was what Ralph had thought of her, that she was like Alma--that money could buy her--that she would sell the honor of her country for gold--.