"I didn't mean to be horrid. Please don't think that of me! I know I often am. But not to you—never to you!"
"Never?" he said.
His face was close to her, and it wore a faint smile in which she detected none of the arrogance of the conqueror. She put up a shy, impulsive hand and touched his cheek.
"Of course not—Apollo!" she whispered.
He caught the hand and kissed it. She trembled as she felt the drawing of his lips.
"I—I must really go now," she told him hastily.
He stood up to his full height, and again she quivered as she realized how magnificent a man he was.
"A bientôt, Daphne!" he said, and let her go.
She slipped away from his presence with the feeling of being caught in the meshes of a great net from which she could never hope to escape. She had drunk to-night yet deeper of the wine of the gods, and she knew beyond all doubting that she would return for more.
The memory of his kisses thrilled her all through the night. When she dreamed she was back again in his arms.