She did not understand him, but her heart was beating wildly, tumultuously, and an inner voice urged her to be gone. She slipped her hand free. "Aren't we--wasting time?" she whispered. He laughed again in that subtle, half-mocking note, but he met her wish instantly. They went downstairs to the _salon_. There were not so many dancers now. The de Vignes had evidently retired. One rapid glance told Dinah this, and she dismissed them therewith from her mind. The rhythm and lure of the music caught her. She slid into the dance with delicious abandonment. The wonder and romance of it had got into her veins. No stolen pleasure was ever more keenly enjoyed than was that last perfect dance. Her very blood was a-fire with the strange, intoxicating joy of life. She wanted to go on for ever. But it ended at length. She came to earth after her rapturous flight, and found herself standing with her partner in a curtained recess of the ballroom from which a glass door led on to the verandah that ran round the hotel. "Just a glimpse of the moonlight on the mountains," he said, "before we say good-night!" She went with him without a moment's thought. She was as one caught in the meshes of a great enchantment. He opened the door, and she passed through on to the verandah. The music throbbed into silence behind them. Before them lay a fairy-world of dazzling silver and deepest, darkest sapphire. The mountains stood in solemn grandeur, domes of white mystery. The great vault of the sky was alight with stars, and a wonderful moon hung like a silver shield almost in the zenith. "How--beautiful!" breathed Dinah. The air was crystal clear, cold but not piercing. The absolute stillness held her spell-bound. "It is like a dream-world," she whispered. "In which you reign supreme," he murmured back. She glanced at him with uncomprehending eyes. Her veins were still throbbing with the ecstasy of the dance. "Oh, how I wish I had wings!" she suddenly said. "To swim through that glorious ether right above the mountain-tops as one swims through the sea! Don't you think flying must be very like swimming?" "With variations," said Eustace. His eyes dwelt upon her. They were fierily blue in that great flood of moonlight. His hand still rested upon her waist. "But what a mistake to want the impossible!" he said, after a moment. "I always do," said Dinah. "At least," she glanced up at him again, "I always have--until to-night." "And to-night?" he questioned, dropping his voice. "Oh, I am quite happy to-night," she said, with a little laugh, "even without the wings. If I hadn't thought of them, I should have nothing left to wish for." "I wish I could say the same," said Sir Eustace, with the faint mocking smile at the corners of his lips. "What can you want more?" asked Dinah innocently. He leaned to her. "A big thing--a small thing! Would you give it to me, my elf of the mountains, if I dared to tell you what it was?"