"I know her voice."
She laughed musically.
"Aren't you a bit of an optimist?" she queried.
"I don't think so. And she's just sweet."
"But if you don't know her name, how can you hope----"
"Her name," I said, "is Dot."
The hand upon my shoulder shook slightly.
We danced on.
At length--
"That's not very much to go on," said Elizabeth.
I sighed.
"Don't discourage me," I said. "When I find her, d'you think she'll give
me the seven dances she said she would?"
"O-o-oh, I never...." She choked and began to cough violently, so that I
drew her out of the press and into a vacant corner. "I never heard of
such a thing," she continued ingeniously.
"You wicked girl," said I. "Why was Clapham Common?"
For a moment she looked at me speechless. Then she began to laugh
tremulously....
With a crash the jazz came to an end. Almost immediately another
orchestra took up the running, and the strains of a valse rose up,
plaintive and tempting.
I looked at my lady.
"Have I earned my dances, Dot?"
She hesitated. Then--
"Carry on, Carry One," she said.
CHAPTER IV
HOW NOBBY CAME TO SLEEP UPON MY BED, AND BERRY FELL AMONG THIEVES.
Thoughtfully I read the letter again.
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