He walked away. Triumph blazed in Belle's heart. She saw in Kenyon's eyes that he was saying the very opposite of the thoughts that were in his mind. She almost shouted with joy. She had longed to see into the heart of this man who was under such complete and aggravating self-control,--even to hurt him to obtain a big, spontaneous outburst of emotion from him. She loved him desperately, indiscreetly--far too well for her peace of mind--and she urgently needed some answering sparks of fire. She didn't move. She stood with her cloak thrown back, her chin held high and the light falling on her dark hair and white flesh. This was her moment. She would seize it. "Yes, there _is_ plenty of room for us both," she said, "and the fact that I shall go on dancing with other men needn't inconvenience you in the least. I don't suppose that we shall even see each other in the crowd. There are many men who'll give their ears to dance with me,--I mean men who can dance, not bored Englishmen." She drew blood. Kenyon went across to her quickly. "How dare you talk to me like that! Curse these men and their ears. Who's brought me to this country? You know I came for you,--you know it. I _am_ jealous--as jealous as the devil. And if ever you let another man put his arms round you I'll smash his face." He put out his hot hands to catch her. But, with a little teasing laugh, Belle dodged and flitted into the library. The spirit of coquettishness was awake in her. _She_ had the upper hand now and a small account to render for missed mails, and an appearance of being too sure. She threw off her cloak and stood with her back to the fireplace, looking like one of Romney's pictures of Lady Hamilton come to life. Kenyon strode in after her, all stirred by her beauty. "In future," he said, "you dance with me. You understand?" Belle raised her eyebrows and then bowed profoundly. "As you say, O my master!" And then she held out her arms with a sudden delicious abandon. "Take me, then. Let's dance all the way through life." Kenyon caught her, and all about the room these two went, moving together in perfect unison, cheek to cheek, until almost breathless Belle broke into a little laugh, stopped singing, and said: "The band's tired." But Kenyon held her tighter and closer and kissed her lips again and again and again. With a little touch of warning in its tone the clock on the mantel-piece presently struck two, and Belle freed herself and straightened her hair with a rather uncertain hand. "I must go now," she said breathlessly. "Father may be working late. Supposing he came through this room?" "Serve him right," said Kenyon.