have something real to show them, something that would make them hail "Speedy" Lamb as another Chester Trask!
The music had temporarily stopped. It occurred to Harold that the most likely place to find Grace was in one of the many alcoves opening out from the ballroom. They were retreats where the dancers retired to rest, smoke and chat. He accordingly walked around the lobby and approached the dance floor from a side entrance. He looked into the first of the little alcoves, pushing aside the fancy screen that assured its privacy, and found it unoccupied. He went on to the next one and was about to take hold of its screen when familiar voices reached his ear from the other side of the barrier. He caught the import of what one of the voices was saying and he took his hand from the screen and paused to listen. He had no desire to eavesdrop; he would have preferred to walk in and ask Grace Beach if his services as an escort were any longer required. But somehow he conceived it his duty to stay his steps a moment.
Joe Bartlett's nasal twang was saying merrily, "If you and Delphine like each other so much, Leonard, why don't you give a real kick to this dance by going off and getting married?"
