"I say, Myra, darlinest, you're looking lovelier and more adorable than

ever, and I feel bewitched and enraptured," Tony whispered to her as

she took his arm and gave it an affectionate little squeeze after a

dance.

"I am trying to make up for being horrid about Don Carlos, Tony dear,"

explained Myra. "Now I have come to my senses, I am going to let the

delightful man make love to me as much as he likes, and play him at his

own game... Let's sit the next dance out in the conservatory, Tony."

She had seen Don Carlos wander into the conservatory, and the imp of

mischief that possessed her was prompting her to find new ways of

teasing and testing him. The conservatory was in semi-darkness, but as

Myra entered with Tony she located Don Carlos, for he happened to

strike a match at that moment to light a cigarette, before seating

himself in a dark corner.

"Let's find a dark corner, Tony," said Myra, and guided her fiancé

close to where Don Carlos was sitting--close enough to be sure that the

Spaniard would be able to overhear anything she said. "The man who

loves me doesn't seem to realise that I want to be kissed," she

resumed. "You may kiss me, Tony."

"Darling!" exclaimed the delighted Tony, taking her in his arms and

kissing her. "I have been longing to kiss you all evening, sweetheart,

but thought you might object even if I got a chance."

"You silly men don't seem to understand that a girl isn't necessarily

in earnest if she says she doesn't want to be kissed, or pretends she

doesn't want to be made love to," responded Myra, with a little

gurgling laugh. "Kiss me again, Tony, but this time kiss me in the way

I should love to be kissed by the man who loves me, and not just like a

cold-blooded Englishman."

Tony kissed her again, straining her closer, but Myra broke from him as

if in sudden alarm.

"There's someone in the corner, Tony," she whispered. "I saw the glow

of a cigarette-end. Let's slip out quickly. I hope they didn't see us

or hear us, and that they won't rag us later on."

Little guessing that Myra had intended part of what she said should be

overheard, Tony, a little bewildered, allowed himself to be rushed out

of the conservatory, protesting in an undertone that it didn't matter

about being heard or seen, as they were engaged.




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