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Page 61
We were at the rail so that we commanded a view of the entire
place, a location I guessed had been maneuvered by Kennedy with a
word to the head waiter. The only tables invisible to us were
those directly beneath, but it would be a simple matter to cross
around during any dance number to view them.
As we took our seats the lights were dimmed suddenly. I realized
that we had arrived in the midst of the cabaret and that it was
the turn of one of the performers. Kennedy, however, seemed to
enjoy the entertainment, an example of his ability to gain
recreation whenever and however he wished, to find relaxation
under the oddest or most casual circumstances, out of anything
from people passing on the street to an impromptu concert of a
street band. In scanty garments, in the glare of a multi-colored
spotlight, the girl danced a hybrid of every dance from the
earliest Grecian bacchanal to the latest alleged Apache
importation from Paris.
I have often wondered at Jacques' and places of the sort. The
intermingling of eating and drinking and dancing was curious.
What possible bearing this terpsichorean monstrosity might have
upon the gastronomic inclinations of the audience it would have
been difficult to fathom.
The lights flashed bright again and Kennedy gave our order.
Meanwhile I glanced about at the people below us. There was no
one in sight I knew until I leaned well over the rail, but upon
doing that I felt little chills of excitement run from the top to
the bottom of my spine, for I discovered in a very prominent
situation at the very edge of the dance floor a party of four, of
whom three very much concerned us. Lloyd Manton, back to the
polished space behind him, was unmistakable in evening clothes.
These bunched at his neck and revealed his habitual stoop as
impartially as his business suits. Across from him, lounging upon
the table likewise, but more immaculately and skillfully
tailored, was Lawrence Millard. The writer, I noticed, flourished
his cigarette holder, fully a foot in length, and emphasized his
remarks to the girl on his right with a rather characteristic
gesture made with the second finger of his left hand. The girl
was Enid, quite mistress of herself in a gown little more than no
gown; and the remarks were obviously confidential. The other
girl, engrossed in Manton, seemed a dangerously youthful and
self-conscious young lady. Her hair flamed Titian red and her
neck, of which she displayed not half as much as Enid, gave her
much concern.
"Kennedy! Look!" I reached over to attract his attention.
"Who's the second girl, I wonder?" He became as interested as I
was.
With a blatant flourish of saxophone and cornet and traps the
band began a jazzy fox-trot. Instantly there was a rush from the
tables for the floor. Enid jumped to her feet, moving her bare
shoulders in the rhythm of the music. Then Millard took firm hold
of her and they wove their way into the crush. It seemed to me
that the little star was the very incarnation of the dance. I
envied her partner more than I dared admit to myself.
Manton and his companion rose also, but more leisurely. On her
feet the girl did not seem so young, although the second
impression may have been the result of the length of her skirt
and the long slim, lines of her gown. We watched both couples
through the number, then gave our attention to the food we had
ordered. Another dance, a modified waltz, revealed Enid in the
arms of Manton. I tried to determine from her actions if she felt
any preference for the producer, or for Millard when again she
took the floor with him. It was an idle effort, of course. The
people surged out perhaps three or four times while we were at
our meal. Each time the party below jumped up in response to the
music. At our cigars, finally, I took to observing the other
diners, wondering what we had gained by coming here.
Suddenly I realized that Kennedy was rising to greet some one
approaching our table. Turning, rising also, I went through all
the miseries of the bashful lover. It was Enid herself.
"I caught sight of you looking over the rail while I was
dancing," she told Kennedy, accepting a chair pulled around by
the waiter. "I knew you saw me. Also I glanced up and found that
you were perfectly well aware of the location of our table. So"--
engagingly--"unsociable creature! Why didn't you come down and
say 'Hello!' or ask me for a dance?"
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