"Oh, good Lord, no," said Kenyon, with his most bored drawl. "Why should
I be? After all it isn't for me to care what you do, is it? It's a large
world and there's plenty of room for both of us--what?"
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.
They went upstairs together on tip-toe, and halted for a moment on the
threshold of Belle's bed-room. Through the half-open door Kenyon saw the
glow of yellow light on the dressing-table, and the corner of a virginal
bed. Once more he kissed her and then, breathing hard, went to his own
room, stood in the darkness for a moment, and thanked his lucky star for
the gift of Belle.