"I wish you weren't married," said Collins, his face a ludicrous travesty of "in all seriousness."
"Why?" She held out her glass to be filled with a high-ball.
"Don't drink any more," he urged her, frowning.
"Why not?"
"You'd be nicer--if you didn't."
Gloria caught suddenly the intended suggestion of the remark, the atmosphere he was attempting to create. She wanted to laugh--yet she realized that there was nothing to laugh at. She had been enjoying the evening, and she had no desire to go home--at the same time it hurt her pride to be flirted with on just that level.
"Pour me another drink," she insisted.
"Please--"
"Oh, don't be ridiculous!" she cried in exasperation.
"Very well." He yielded with ill grace.
Then his arm was about her again, and again she made no protest. But when his pink cheek came close she leaned away.
"You're awfully sweet," he said with an aimless air.
She began to sing softly, wishing now that he would take down his arm. Suddenly her eye fell on an intimate scene across the room--Rachael and Captain Wolf were engrossed in a long kiss. Gloria shivered slightly--she knew not why.... Pink face approached again.
"You shouldn't look at them," he whispered. Almost immediately his other arm was around her ... his breath was on her cheek. Again absurdity triumphed over disgust, and her laugh was a weapon that needed no edge of words.
"Oh, I thought you were a sport," he was saying.
"What's a sport?"
"Why, a person that likes to--to enjoy life."
"Is kissing you generally considered a joyful affair?"
They were interrupted as Rachael and Captain Wolf appeared suddenly before them.
"It's late, Gloria," said Rachael--she was flushed and her hair was dishevelled. "You'd better stay here all night."
For an instant Gloria thought the officers were being dismissed. Then she understood, and, understanding, got to her feet as casually as she was able.
Uncomprehendingly Rachael continued: "You can have the room just off this one. I can lend you everything you need."
Collins's eyes implored her like a dog's; Captain Wolf's arm had settled familiarly around Rachael's waist; they were waiting.
But the lure of promiscuity, colorful, various, labyrinthine, and ever a little odorous and stale, had no call or promise for Gloria. Had she so desired she would have remained, without hesitation, without regret; as it was she could face coolly the six hostile and offended eyes that followed her out into the hall with forced politeness and hollow words.