"Mrs. Aphrodite Gave her pretty sonny Lots of golden curls But little golden money, Dressed him in a nightie!— (Listen to me, girls!) Love of golden curls Leads the world astray! (Listen to me, honey!) Love of golden money Acts the selfsame way!" Breathless with laughter the Grecian gods galloped round and round in a dizzy circle, flushed faces flashed past Stephanie, flying draperies and loosened hair fluttered and streamed and glimmered in confused sequence before her angry eyes. Suddenly the mad dance broke up and flew into fragments, scattering its reeling, panting devotees into prancing couples in every direction. And straight into this wild confusion stepped Stephanie, her pretty eyes brilliant with wrath, her face a trifle pale. "Jim!" He let go of Lady Button-eyes in astonishment and turned around. Stephanie said very coolly: "If you’re going to raise the devil, raise him with me, please!" Lady Button-eyes was not pleased and she showed it by stamping, which alone had sufficiently fixed her level if she had not also placed both hands on her hips and laughed scornfully when Cleland took leave of her and walked over to Stephanie. "Where are the others?" he inquired, rather red at being discovered with such a crew. "You’re not alone, are you, Steve?" "Not now," she said sweetly; and passed her left arm through his and clasped her right hand over it. "Now," she said with an excited little laugh, "I am ready to raise the devil with you. Take me wherever you like, Jim." The insulted gods gazed upon her with astonishment as she lifted her small head and sent an indifferent glance like an arrow at random among them. Then, not further noticing them, and absolutely indifferent to the button-eyed one, she strolled leisurely out of Olympus with her slightly disconcerted captive and disappeared from their view along the southern corridor. But once out of their range of vision her hot wrath returned. "It was abominable," she said in a low, tense voice, "—your going off that way, when I told you the whole evening would be spoiled for me without you! I am hurt and angry, Jim." But his smouldering wrath also flickered into flame now. "You had Grismer, didn’t you!" he said. "What do you care whether I am with you or not?" "What do you mean? Yes, of course I had him. What has that to do with _you_?" He replied with light insolence: "Nothing. I’m not your husband." His words fell like a blow: she caught her breath with the hurt of them; then: "Is that why you have avoided me?" she demanded in a tone of such concentrated passion that the unexpected flare-up startled him. It surprised her, too: for, all at once, in her heart something contracted agonizingly, and a surge of furious resentment flooded her, almost strangling speech.