"Oh, you're angry!" she said, in tragic accents.
He laughed at that. "About as angry as I could get with a piece of thistledown. But you know, you're not very wise, my Daphne. You've got it in you to madden me, but it's a risky thing to do. Now see here! I've brought you something to make those moss-agate eyes of yours shine. Can you guess what it is?"
His hand was held out to her. She laid her own within it with conscious reluctance. He drew her into the circle of his arm, pressing her to him.
She leaned her head against him with a bewildered sense of self-reproach. "I'm sorry I'm silly, Eustace," she murmured "I expect I'm made that way too. Don't—don't take any notice!"
He touched her forehead lightly with his lips. "You'll get over it, sweetheart," he said. "It won't matter so much after we're married. I can do as I like with you then."
"Oh, I shan't like that," said Dinah quickly.
His arm pressed her closer. "Yes, you will. I'll give you no end of a good time. Now, sweetheart, give me that little hand of yours again! No, the left! There! I wonder if it's small enough. Rather a loose fit, eh? How do you like it?"
He was fitting a ring on to the third finger. Dinah looked and was dazzled. "Oh, Eustace,—diamonds!" she said, in an awed whisper.
"The best I could find," he told her, with princely arrogance. "I hunted through Bond Street for it this morning. Will it do?"
"You went up on purpose? Oh, Eustace!" she laid her cheek with a winning movement against his hand. "You are too good! You are much too good!"