"Here you are," he said. "Sit down and tell me exactly what happened." She glanced nervously at his face, which had in it a touch of sternness that recalled their painful interview three weeks ago. "I--I don't think he really knew what he was talking about," she began, her eyes on the butterfly fan, which she opened and shut mechanically while speaking. "He began by saying that fancy balls were quite different to other ones; that the real fun of them was that every one could say and do just what they pleased, and nothing mattered at all. He said his own dress was specially convenient, because no one could expect a Pierrot to be responsible for his actions. Then he--he said that by coming as a butterfly I had given every man in the room the right to--to catch me if he could. Wasn't that hateful?" "Curse him!" muttered Desmond under his breath. "Well--was that all?" She shook her head with a rueful smile. "I don't half like telling you, Theo; you look so stern. I'm afraid you'll be very angry." "_Not_ with you, dear. Go on." "Well, I told him I didn't see it that way at all, and he said of course not; butterflies never _did_ see that people had any right to catch them; yet they got caught all the same. Then he took tight hold of my hands, and came so close to me that--I was frightened, and asked him to take me back to the ballroom at once. He said it wasn't fair, that the whole twelve minutes belonged to him, and he wouldn't be cheated out of any of it. Then when I was getting up to go away, he--he laughed, and put his arm round me, so that I couldn't move, though I tried to--I did, truly." At that her husband's arm went round her, and she yielded with a sigh of satisfaction to its protective pressure. "The brute didn't dare to--kiss you, did he, Ladybird?" "Oh, no--no. The music began, and some people came by, and he had to let me go. Do men often behave like that at balls, Theo?" "Well--no; not the right sort!" Desmond answered, a gleam of amusement in his eyes. "But there's always a good sprinkling of the wrong sort in a crowd of this kind, and the stewards ought to be more careful." "The trouble is that--I gave him two dances. The next one is his, and I _can't_ dance with him again. That's why I so badly wanted to find you. Listen, they're tuning up now. Must I go and sit in the ladies' room till it's over?" "Certainly not. Come out and dance it with me." "Can I? How lovely! I was afraid you were sure to be engaged." "Of course I am. But as you happen to need me, that doesn't count." She leaned forward suddenly, and gave him one of her quick, half-shy kisses, that were still so much more like the kisses of a child than of a woman grown. "It is nice to belong to a man like you," she murmured caressingly. "You really are a dear, Theo! And after I've been so bad to you, too!"