together. Many were leaving; among them Pringle's fat and obliging
neighbors rose with a pleasant: "Excuse me, please!"

A stream of newcomers trickled in through the door. As Pringle sat
down the lights were dimmed again. Simultaneously the girl he had
noticed beyond the fat couple moved over to the seat next to his own.
Pringle did not look at her; and a little later he felt a hand on his
sleeve.

"Tut, tut!" said Pringle in a tolerant undertone. "Why, chicken,
you're not trying to get gay with your old Uncle Dudley, are you?"

"John Wesley Pringle!" came the answer in a furious whisper, each
indignant word a missile. "How dare you! How dare you speak to me like
that?"

"What!" said Pringle, peering. "What! Stella Vorhis! I can hardly
believe it!"

"But it's oh-so-true!" said Stella, rising. "Let's go--we can't talk
here."

"That was one awful break I made. I most sincerely and humbly beg your
pardon," Pringle said on the sidewalk.

Stella laughed.

"That's all right--I understand--forget it! You hadn't looked at me.
But I knew you when you first came in--only I wasn't sure till the
lights were turned on. Of course it would be great fun to tease