Softly the strains of Simple Aveu floated along the corridor. It came like fairy music, now near, now far, haunting as a dream, woven through and through with the gold of Romance.
Someone was coming along the passage with the easy swing of the born dancer, and pressed against her door-post in the shadows, another born dancer awaited him with a wildly throbbing heart.
The die was cast, and there was no going back. She heard the deep voice humming the magic melody as he came. In a moment the superb figure came into sight, moving with that royal ease of carriage so characteristic and so wonderful.
He drew near. He spied the small white figure lurking in the dimness. With a low laugh he opened his arms to her.
And then there came to Dinah, not for the first time, a strange, wholly indefinable misgiving. It was a warning so insistent that she suddenly and swiftly drew back, as if she would flee into the room behind her.
But he was too quick for her. He caught her on the threshold. "Oh no, no!" he laughed. "That's not playing the game." He drew her to him, holding her two wrists. "Daphne! Daphne!" he said. "Still running away? Do you call that fair?"
She did not resist him, for the moment she felt his touch she knew herself a captive. The magic force of his personality had caught her; but she did not give herself wholly to him. She stood and palpitated in his hold, her head bent low.
"I--I'm not running away," she told him breathlessly. "I was just--just coming. But--but--shan't we be seen? Your brother--"
"What?" He was stooping over her; she felt his breath upon her neck. "Oh, Scott! Surely you're not afraid of Scott, are you? You needn't be. I've sent him off to write some letters. He'll be occupied for an hour at least. Come! Come! You promised. And we're wasting time."
There was a subtle caressing note in his voice. It thrilled her as she stood, and ever the soft music drifted on around them, pulsing with a sweetness almost too intense to be borne.
He held her with the hold of a conqueror. She was quivering from head to foot, but all desire to free herself was gone. Still she would not raise her face.
Panting, she spoke. "Yes, we--we are wasting time. Let us go!"
He laughed above her head--a low laugh of absolute assurance. "Are you too shy to look at me,--Daphne?"