Had there been magic in the small piece of ribbon it could not well have wrought a greater change in Barbara. Her attempt at dignity vanished. A wave of crimson passed over her face, her eyes blazed, and when she spoke it was in a voice choked with passion.
"How dare you, sir! 'Tis a most cowardly lie. 'Twas no embrace, as you might know well. 'Twas—'Twas—an assault."
Her persecutor was as unmoved by her passion as he had been by her rating.
"No embrace?" he drawled in polite astonishment. "Nay, then I pray you pardon my mistake, which you will grant me was a natural one. Truly an that be your manner of assaulting your enemies, I forgive the Fates for having ranked me among their number, and shall desire of them nothing better than continuous battery at your hands."
"Have your desire then," cried Barbara furiously, and doubling up her first she dealt him a fierce blow on the side of his face.
With a quiet smile he turned his head.
"The other cheek, madame?"
Barbara gasped and for a moment stared down into the cool face raised to hers. Then suddenly her eyes twinkled, her mouth dimpled, and she broke into a soft, half-angry laugh which, however, she as quickly repressed.
"By Heaven, sir, an you be not the most aggravating man in the kingdom, Heaven grant I may never meet him. How dare you detain me thus? Loose my pony instantly."
He drew back with a low bow.