She turned appealingly to Scott. "I think I might go—just for one dance, don't you?"
Scott's pale eyes met hers with steady comradeship. "I think I shouldn't," he said.
Eustace turned as if he had not heard and strolled to the door. He opened it, and at once the room was filled with the plaintive alluring strains of waltz-music. He stood and looked back. Dinah met the look, and suddenly she was on her feet.
He held out his hand to her with a smile half-mocking, half-persuasive. The music swung on with a subtle enchantment. Dinah uttered a little quivering laugh, and went to him.
In another moment the door closed, and they stood alone in the passage.
"I knew you wanted to," said Eustace, smiling down into her eyes with the arrogance of the conqueror.
Dinah was panting a little as one who had suffered a sudden strain. "Of course I wanted to," she returned. "But that doesn't make it right."
He pressed her hand to his heart for a moment, and she caught again a glimpse of that fire in his eyes that had so thrilled her. She could not meet it. She stood in palpitating silence.
"Where is the use of fighting against fate?" he asked her softly. "A gift of the gods is never offered twice."
She did not understand him, but her heart was beating wildly, tumultuously, and an inner voice urged her to be gone.