"I mean to get even with Don Carlos," Myra responded, stubbornly, with an impatient toss of her red-gold head. "It will be amusing to see the man who boasted that no woman could resist him chagrined and broken-hearted because Myra Rostrevor has laughed at him and made his boasts seem foolish." "You have had your warning," exclaimed Lady Fermanagh abruptly. "Don't expect any sympathy from me if you get burnt as a result of playing with fire." She swept out of the room, and as the door closed Myra made a moue, flung herself down in the armchair again, and lit her cigarette. "Damn him!" she said fervently. CHAPTER VIII So many people had been invited to the Cavendish ball that there was scarce room to dance. Myra caught sight of Don Carlos several times, and her heart beat a trifle fast when at last she saw him making his way through the crowd towards her during an interval. "May I have the pleasure and honour of dancing the next with you, Miss Rostrevor?" he inquired, with his usual courtly bow. "The floor is becoming less crowded now the news has gone round that supper is being served." Myra's first impulse was to snub him, but she refrained, rose without a word as the music re-started, and they glided round together to the lilting refrain of the band. Both were extremely graceful and accomplished dancers, and several other couples ceased dancing to watch them, giving them the centre of the floor. "Are you afraid to look at me, cara mia?" whispered Don Carlos, after a few minutes. "I want to look deep into your dear blue eyes and try to read what is in your heart." "I am afraid the result would be a shock to your overweening vanity, Don Carlos," responded Myra coldly, still avoiding his eyes. "I am very angry with you, and I am surprised you should have had the audacity to ask me to dance with you before even attempting to offer any apology for your outrageous behaviour of this afternoon." "Dear, darling, delicious, delectable lady, why should I apologise for taking up your challenge and redeeming my promise?" Don Carlos asked. "Why profess to be offended with the man who loves you so passionately for taking a few of the kisses for which he was craving and hungering? What is it your great Shakespeare wrote that fits our case? ... Ah! I have it! ..." He sang the words softly, fitting them to the rhythm of the air the dance-band was playing: "_'A thousand kisses buys my heart from me; And pay them at your leisure, one by one. What are ten hundred touches unto thee? Are they not quickly told and quickly gone? Say for non-payment that the debt should double; Is twenty hundred kisses such a trouble?'_"