But a slacker was a slacker! A coward was a coward! All the money in
the world couldn't take away the stain. A man who wouldn't fight at
this moment for the freedom of the world was a renegade! She would
have none of him.

He came on smiling. "Hello, Ralph. Miss McKenzie, your father says
you may dance with me--I hope you have something left?"

The blood sang in her ears, her cheeks burned.

"I haven't anything left--for you--" The emphasis was unmistakable.

[Illustration: "I haven't anything left for you."]

Even then he did not grasp what had happened to him. "Ralph will let
me have one of his--be a good sport, Ralph."

"Well, I like that," Ralph began. Then Jean's crisp voice stopped him.
"I am not going to dance any more--my head aches. I--I shall ask Daddy
to take me--home--"

It was all very young and obvious. Derry gave her a puzzled stare.
Ralph protested. "Oh, look here, Jean. If you think you aren't going
to dance any more with me."

"Well, I'm not. I am going home. Please take me down to Daddy."

It seemed a long time before the blurred good-byes were said, and Jean
was alone with her father in the cozy comfort of the closed car.