Vance stood paralysed with rage; but he had no time to express it, for friends and acquaintances were pressing about him, and Bunty Hayes was swept aside by their approach. Vance found himself the centre of a throng of people, all eager to say a word, all determined to have one in return; and his only conscious desire was to be rid of it all, and of them, and let his rage against Hayes take breath. He managed to mumble his wife's name to the first comers, but presently her hand slipped from his arm, and he saw her drawn away by a tall sable-draped figure whose back he recognized as Mrs. Pulsifer's. Mrs. Pulsifer and Laura Lou—he wished there had been time to be furious at that too! But perhaps it was better to laugh at it—to laugh even at Bunty Hayes, whose showman's instinct so confidently triumphed over every personal awkwardness. "Why," Vance thought, "if I was to collar him now and give him the licking he deserves, he'd use that to advertise 'Storecraft.' No wonder he gets on, and 'Storecraft' too." And instantly he began to weave the whole scene into Loot, his heart beating excitedly as he felt himself swept along on the strong current of the human comedy… . If only he could tell Halo Tarrant, he thought! He turned, and there she stood beside him, with Frenside.

"Yes, we've come. I hate these performances; but I wanted to see you battling with the waves, and I made Frenny come too." How fine and slender and aloof she managed to look among them all, and how his blood instantly caught step with hers! "Well, this is fame—how do you like it?" she bantered him.

He shrugged. "I guess it's a good page for Loot."

She nodded delightedly. "You see I was right! I told you you must see it all. But where's Laura Lou? Surely she was with you a minute ago?"

"Yes. But she's gone."

"Gone?"

"With Mrs. Pulsifer. I think they're in the other room."

Their eyes met, and Mrs. Tarrant laughed. "I've noticed signs of uneasiness in Jet lately. She realizes that she made a bad mistake last year about your short story, and I hear she now talks of founding a First Novel prize. She's probably telling Laura Lou all about it."

Vance laughed too; and then they turned together to the bust, which Mrs. Tarrant had not yet seen. She studied it thoughtfully for a long time; then, as other visitors crowded her away, she turned back to Vance. "I didn't think that Stram girl had it in her. She has caught a glimpse of you, Vance—a glimpse of what you're going to be. Don't you think so, Frenny?"

"Well, I'm sorry to think that our young friend's going to have a goitre," said Frenside gloomily.