crush her. She put out her hand to push it away.

In the silence a bell whirred--.

Derry Drake, ushered in by Julia, saw the room in the rosy glow of the
lamp. He saw Ralph Witherspoon towering insolently in his aviator's
green. He saw Jean, blushing and perturbed. The scene struck cold
against the heat of his anticipation.

He sat down in one of the rose-colored chairs, and Julia brought more
tea for him, more Lady-bread-and-butter, more pound cakes with nuts and
frosting.

Ralph was frankly curious. He was also frankly jealous. He was aware
that Derry had met Jean for the first time at his mother's dinner
dance. And Derry's millions were formidable. It did not occur to
Ralph that Derry, without his millions, was formidable. Ralph's idea
of a man's attractiveness for women was founded on his belief in their
admiration of good looks, and their liking for the possession of, as he
would himself have expressed it, "plenty of pep" and "go." From
Ralph's point of view Derry Drake was not handsome, and he was utterly
unaware that back of Derry's silver-blond slenderness and apparent
languidness were banked fires which could more than match his own.

And there was this, too, of which he was unconscious, that Derry's
millions meant nothing to Jean. Had he remained the shabby son of the
shabby old man in the Toy Shop, her heart would still have followed him.

So, fatuously hopeful, Ralph stayed. He stayed until five, until
half-past five. Until a quarter of six.