of the new innocence, thinking she knew all, feared nothing, suspected nothing, least of all, suspected what she had yet to learn.
"You are beautiful in that dress," Gregg said, too seriously, and swept by a surprisingly overwhelming impulse to seize her as he gazed down at her. "Only a girl like you should wear that."
"You mean I shouldn't, either?"
"I didn't say that."
"No." Suddenly she was fiery red, the hotness spreading from her face down her white throat.
"I like you in it," Gregg protested quickly. "Bill did, too. What he didn't like was to have"
"What, please?"
"Me, and other men, liking you in it."
Marjorie stooped and, picking up a silk scarf from a chair, she threw it about her shoulders. "I'm having it changed to-morrow. I didn't like it myself; but when my own mother arranged it for me, I thought" she stopped. "When I got downstairs with it on, and after the fun of Billy's first sight of me, I just had to explain to you that I didn't choose it. You see?"
"Of course," said Gregg.
"It gave father a jog. What I was going to say: I'm awfully glad Billy and you could come; it's helpful to have one or two others about who can remember a father that took care of the furnace, if we're having the Chadens drop in informally for dinner before we all go to the dance."
"Then your father's going to the Lovells' with us?" Gregg asked quickly; ever since entering the house he had been seeking, sub-consciously, some excuse for escape from the task Cuncliffe had forced on him.
