A little later he recognised me and smiled. I examined his programme
and found that he was engaged for the next dance to a girl who could
talk to anyone on any subject; I could see my wife's hand in the
arrangement. I explained the situation, piloted him to his partner
and stayed with them a while. She made several openings for him in the
conversation, which he immediately sealed up with monosyllables, and
when she allowed her fan to slip to the floor he stepped on it. She
suggested that they should take the air on the balcony, and as I
left them he pulled himself together and began to tell her, in a
well-modulated voice, that the surface of the floor was excellent.
Later I saw him with the same partner still on the balcony. They were
both pale and silent and had apparently never moved. They seemed to
be exercising an unconscious fascination on one another. My courage
failed me and I went elsewhere.
Some time after I happened to be at the buffet when Norman staggered
in and ordered a large brandy-and-soda. There were beads of
perspiration on his forehead and he was as white as death.
"What has happened?" I asked as soon as, I could attract his
attention.
"It is horrible--horrible!" he gasped.
"Tell me what has happened," I commanded, grasping his shoulder.
"What has happened!" he repeated, with a hollow laugh. "I am undone.
My career is at an end. I am a broken man."
"What have you done?"
"I couldn't help it," he sobbed. "We sat there for an age, an
eternity, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to act. At length my
nerve gave way and I--I've pulled all her teeth out."
* * * * *