The only sky I ride beneath
Is the dear blue of her eyes,
The only heaven I desire
Is the blue of her dear eyes.
But even the memory of the song died in him while he watched her dance, and saw the lights and shadows flit across the smooth shoulders; and when he saw the hands of Wilbur about her, a red rage came up in him.
Dick in passing, marked that stare above the heads of the crowd, and frowned with trouble. The hungry eyes of Pierre followed them as they circled the hall again; and this time Wilbur, perhaps fearing that something had gone wrong with Pierre, steered close to the edge of the dancing crowd and looked inquisitively across.
He leaned and spoke to the girl, and she turned her head, smiling, to Pierre. Then the smile went out, and even despite the mask, he saw that her eyes had widened. The heart of Pierre grew thunderous with music. She had stopped and slipped from the arm of Wilbur, and came step by step slowly toward him like one walking in her sleep.
There, by the edge of the dancers, with the noise of the music and the laughter and the shuffling feet to cover them, they met. The hands she held to him were cold and trembling. He only knew that they were marvelously soft, and that they faltered and closed strongly about his own.
"Is it you?"
"It is I."
