"Now tell me!" commanded Dinah.
"I don't think I will," he said deliberately.
"But you must!" said Dinah.
His eyes sought hers again with that look which she found it impossible to meet. She bent over her cup.
"What will you show me?" she persisted. "Tell me!"
"I didn't say I would show you anything," he pointed out. "I said I might."
"Tell me what it was anyhow!" she said.
He leaned nearer to her, and suddenly it seemed to her that they were quite alone, very far removed from the rest of the world. "It may not be to-night," he murmured. "Or even to-morrow. But some day—in this land where there are no consequences—I will show you—when the fates are propitious, not before—some of the things that Daphne missed when she ran away."
He ceased to speak. Dinah's face was burning. She could not look at him. She felt as if a magic flame had wrapped her round. Her whole body was tingling, her heart wildly a-quiver. There was a rapture in that moment that was almost too intense, too poignant, to be borne.
He was the first to move. Calmly he leaned back, and resumed his cigarette. Through the aromatic smoke his voice came to her again.