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oven. Through an almost impenetrable fog of cigarette smoke I discerned my colleague on a high stool holding court with a group of perspiring revelers. Tristan himself looked cool and, as always, profoundly content. He drained his glass, smacked his lips gently as though it had been the best pint of beer he’d ever tasted, then, as he reached across the counter and courteously requested a refill, he spotted me struggling toward him.
    When I reached his stool he laid an affable hand on my shoulder. “Ah, Jim, nice to see you. Splendid dance, this, don’t you think?”
    I didn’t bring up the fact that I hadn’t seen him on the floor yet, but making my voice casual I mentioned that Helen was there. Tristan nodded benignly.
    “Yes, saw her come in. Why don’t you go and dance with her?”
    “I can’t do that. She’s with a partner—young Edmundson.”
    “Not at all.” Tristan surveyed his fresh pint with a critical eye and took an exploratory sip. “She’s with a party, like us. No partner.”
    “How do you know that?”
    “I watched all the fellows hand their coats out there while the girls went upstairs. No reason at all why you shouldn’t have a dance with her.”
    “I see.” I hesitated for a few moments, then made my way back to the ballroom.
    But it wasn’t as easy as that. I had to keep doing my duty with the girls in our group and whenever I headed for Helen she was whisked away by one of her men friends before I got near her. At times I fancied she was looking over at me but I couldn’t be sure; the only thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t enjoying myself anymore; the magic and gaiety had gone and I felt a rising misery at the thought that this was going to be another of my frustrating contacts with Helen when all I could do was look at her hopelessly. Only this time was worse—I hadn’t even spoken to her.
    I was almost relieved when the manager came up and told me there was a call for me. I went to the phone and spoke to Mrs. Hall, our housekeeper at Skeldale House. There was a bitch in trouble whelping and I had to go. I looked at my watch—after midnight, so that was the end of the dance for me.
    I stood for a moment listening to the muffled thudding from the dance floor, then slowly pulled on my coat before going in to say good-bye to Tristan’s friends. I exchanged a few words with them, waved, then turned back and pushed the swing door open.
    Helen was standing there, about a foot away from me. Her hand was on the door, too. I didn’t wonder whether she was going in or out but stared dumbly into her smiling blue eyes.
    “Leaving already, Jim?” she said.
    “Yes, I’ve got a call, I’m afraid.”
    “Oh what a shame. I hope it’s nothing very serious.”
    I opened my mouth to speak, but her dark beauty and the very nearness of her suddenly filled my world and a wave of hopeless longing swept over and submerged me. I slid my hand a few inches down the door and gripped hers as a drowning man might and wonderingly I felt her fingers come round and entwine themselves tightly in mine.
    And in an instant there was no band, no noise, no people, just the two of us standing, very close in the doorway.
    “Come with me,” I said.
    Helen’s eyes were very large as she smiled that smile I knew so well.
    “I’ll get my coat, she murmured.
    This wasn’t really me, I thought, standing on the hall carpet watching Helen trotting quickly up the stairs, but I had to believe it as she reappeared on the landing pulling on her coat. Outside, on the cobbles of the marketplace, my car, too, appeared to be taken by surprise because it roared into life at the first touch of the starter.
    I had to go back to the surgery for my whelping instruments and in the silent moonlit street we got out and I opened the big white door to Skeldale House.
    And once in the passage it was the most natural thing in the world to take her in my arms and kiss her gratefully and unhurriedly. I had waited a long time