The conversation at times became almost general, the party of songsters in the corner leading in the exchange of persiflage. Two girls dining alone, with hard, tired-looking eyes and cheap jewelry, began a duet; instantly, from a company of young men, two detached themselves, plates and glasses in hand, and went over to join them. A roar went up; glasses rang again and Dave fluttered about in protest at the noise.
Fancy talked little. The crowd, the lights, the _camaraderie_ hypnotized her. She watched first one and then another group, picking out, for Gay's edification, the prettiest girl and the handsomest man in the room. She waved her hand slyly at the collarless soloist and applauded two darkies who came in from outside to make a hideous clamor with banjos. As she waited to be served, she nibbled at the dry French bread and drank of the sour claret, watching over the top of her glass, losing nothing.
In the middle of the room, Blanchard Cayley sat with three ladies. One of them Fancy recognized as Miss Payson. Fancy's eyebrows rose slightly at seeing her, and a smile and a nod were cordially exchanged. The others Fancy did not know. They were both pretty women, well-dressed, with evident signs of breeding, and, as the urn waxed freer, apparently not a little embarrassed at being seen in such a place. Miss Payson showed no such feeling in her demeanor, however much she may have been amused or surprised at the spirit of the place. Blanchard Cayley divided his attentions equitably amongst them, till, looking across the room, he caught Fancy's errant glance. He smiled at her openly as if challenging her roguery.
She boldly returned the greeting. Gay caught the glance that was exchanged.
"See here, Fancy," he protested, "none of that now! He's got all he can do to attend to his own table. I'll attend to this one, myself."
Now, this was scarcely the way to treat a girl like Fancy Gray. At her first opportunity, she sent another smile in Cayley's direction. It was divided, this time, by members of his own party and the women began to buzz together. Gay was annoyed.
"There's something I like about that man," Fancy remarked presently. "What'd you say his name was? That's the one we saw at Zinkand's, wasn't it?"