ribly in love with her husband still, and he's getting married to-day to the Yardley girl."
The band was blaring slowly in Arcadia; the floor was crowded with undersized boys with belted coats: and shaved necks, and girls with big pearl bead necklaces and flat curls stuck to their cheeks. With fixed eyes and steadily moving jaws they went through their elaborate steps. Here and there a couple spun with the tranced faces of dervishes. The women of Bill Salisbury's party looked about them, smiling and starry-eyed, pretending not to know they were being noticed.
Joe and Evelyn were together again, speaking to each other without sound or words, together for dance after dance, keeping away from the others.
The lights went down, the orchestra played a waltz, quietly and slowly, and the dancers sang as they danced. Lost children, singing in the dark, happy and gentle and good, forgetting for a little while that they were lost. Then the lights glared; the tribal drums began to beat; saxophones moaned and laughed.
"I want to go home. Will you take me?"
Colored fire poured and cascaded over Broadway, streaming trembling lines of lilac and rose, chartreuse color, moonlight green, a pure and innocent blue. Messages of fire were written in the sky, seen through a veil of lightly falling snow. The subway lamps were blue night sky, worn thin, so that heaven shone
