His eyes gleamed as they rested on the girl; he seemed to lose himself
in reverie.

Did she, the vision in orchids, notice him? Perhaps! The chauffeur at
that moment increased the speed of the big car; but as it dashed past,
the crimson mouth of the beautiful girl tightened and hardened into a
straight line and those wonderful starlike eyes shone suddenly with a
light as hard as steel. Disdainful, contemptuous; albeit, perhaps,
passionate! Then she, orchids, shining car and all were whirled on.

Rattle! bang! went the iron-rimmed wheels of other rougher vehicles.
Bing! bang! sounded the piano like a soul in torment.

Horatio Heatherbloom stood motionless; then his figure swayed slightly.
He lifted the music, as if to shield his features from the others--his
many auditors; but they didn't mind that brief interruption; it afforded
a moment for that rough and ready dialogue which a gathering of this
kind finds to its liking.

"Give him a trokee! Anybody got a cough drop?"

"It's soothing syrup he wants."

"No; it's us wants that."

"What the devil--" Mr. Mackintosh looked out of the wagon.

Mr. Heatherbloom suddenly laughed, a forced reckless laugh. "Guess it
was the dampness. I'm like some artists--have to be careful where I
sing."