"You bring me"--Cleone's voice trembled--"a tarnished reputation. I've no mind to it, sir. You have made love to a dozen other women. Perhaps you have kissed them. And--and now you offer me--your kisses! I like unspoilt wares, sir." Philip rose, very stiff and stern. "I am sorry that you consider yourself insulted by my offer, Cleone." Her hand half flew towards him and fell again. Couldn't he understand that she wanted him to beat down her resistance? Did he care no more than that? If only he would deny everything and master her! "I hasten to relieve you of my obnoxious presence. Your servant, mademoiselle." Philip bowed. He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Cleone stricken. Her fan dropped unheeded to the ground. Philip had gone! He had not understood that she wanted to be overruled, overcome. He had gone, and he would never come back. In those few minutes he had been the Philip she loved, not the flippant gallant of the past weeks. Tears came into Cleone's eyes. Why, why had he been so provoking? And oh, why had she let him go? She knew now beyond question that he was the only man she could ever love, or had ever loved. Now he had left her, and would go back to Paris. Nothing mattered, she did not care what became of her once she had lost Philip. James Winton, never far away, came to her side and sat down. Cleone greeted him mechanically and proceeded to follow out her own line of dismal thought. Through a haze of misery she heard James' voice. It sounded rather shy, and very anxious. She had not the faintest idea of what he was saying, but she felt vaguely annoyed by his persistency. Presently these words filtered through to her brain: "Say yes, Cleone! Say yes! Oh, say yes, Cleone!" How importunate he was! Cleone turned impatiently. "Oh, yes, yes! What is it?" As James had been blurting out a carefully-worded proposal of marriage, he was not flattered by this answer. He rose, hurt to the bottom of his youthful soul. "It is evident that you have not heard a word of what I said, Cleone!" "Oh, don't worry me, James! I've said yes. What is it? You are so persistent, and I wish to be quiet!" James bowed. "I will leave you, madam. I offered you my hand and my heart." With that he walked off, a picture of outraged dignity. Cleone broke into hysterical laughter. Up came Sir Deryk. "You seem vastly entertained, lady fair. May I share the pleasantry?" Cleone sprang up. "Take me away from this!" she begged. "I--I am nigh fainting from the heat! I--oh, I must be quiet! The fiddling goes through and through my head. I--oh, take me somewhere cool!" Sir Deryk was surprised, but he did not show it. "Why, of course, dearest! I know of a small withdrawing-room nearby. Take my arm, it's stifling in here!" He led her across the room to where a heavy curtain hung, shutting off a small, dimly-lighted apartment. Meanwhile Philip had gone to Lady Malmerstoke's side. He sat down, frowning gloomily.