Desmond guided his wife along the edge of the crowd till they came again to the pillared entrance. Here, where it was possible to stand back a little from the dancers, they were confronted by a thickset, heavy-faced man wearing the singularly inept-looking costume of a Pierrot. Face and carriage proclaimed that he had enjoyed his dinner very thoroughly before setting out for the ball; and Evelyn's small shudder fired the fighting blood in Desmond's veins. It needed an effort of will not to greet his unsuspecting opponent with a blow between the eyes. But instead, he stood his ground and awaited developments. The man bestowed upon Evelyn a bow of exaggerated politeness, which italicised his scant courtesy towards her partner. "There's some mistake here," he said bluntly. "This is _my_ dance with Mrs Desmond, and I've missed too much of it already." "Mrs Desmond happens to be my wife," Theo made answer with ominous quietness. "I don't choose that she should be insulted by her partners; and I am dancing this with her myself." The incisive tone, low as it was, penetrated the man's muddled brain. His blustering assurance collapsed visibly, increasing fourfold his ludicrous aspect. He staggered backward, muttering incoherent words that might charitably be construed as apology, and passed on into the library, making an ineffectual effort to combine an air of dignified indifference with the uncertain gait of a landsman in a heavy sea. Desmond stood looking after him as he went in mingled pity and contempt; but Evelyn's eyes never left her husband's face. His smouldering anger, and the completeness of his power to protect her by a few decisive words, thrilled her with a new, inexplicable intensity,--an emotion that startled her a little, and in the same breath lifted her to an unreasoning height of happiness. Unconsciously she pressed close against him as he put his arm round her. "You're all safe now, my Ladybird," he said with a low laugh. "And honour is satisfied, I suppose! The creature wasn't worth knocking down, though I could hardly keep my fists off him at the start." And he swept her forthwith into the heart of the many-coloured crowd. The valse was more than half over now, and as the music slackened to its close some two hundred couples vanished into the surrounding dimness, each intent on their own few minutes of enjoyment. Evelyn Desmond, flushed, silent, palpitating, remained standing at her husband's side, till they were left practically alone under one of the many arches that surround the great hall. "That was much too short, wasn't it?" he said. "Now we must go and look up Honor, and see that she is not left in the lurch." At that she raised her eyes, and the soft shining in them lent a quite unusual beauty to her face. "Must we, Theo,--really? Honor's sure to be all right, and I'm so badly wanting to sit out--with you."