He looked down at her with lazy affection. “You’ve chosen the wrong man for these tricks of yours. What is it you want?”
She began to pleat the stiff silk of her gown. “I do love him,” she said. “I do, Vidal!”
“Well?”
“If only he would — be a little more like you!” she said in a rush.
“Good God!” said the Marquis, amused. “Why the devil should he be?”
“I don’t mean that I want him to be really like you,” explained Miss Marling. “It’s merely that — oh, I can’t tell! But supposing you loved me, Dominic, and I — well, flirted, if you must use that horrid word — with another man: what would you do?”
“Kill him,” said the Marquis flippantly.
She shook his arm. “You don’t mean it, but I think perhaps you would. Vidal, you’d not let another man steal the lady you loved, would you? Do answer soberly!”
The smile still lingered on his lips, but she saw his teeth shut hard. “Soberly, Ju, I would not.”
“What would you do?” inquired Miss Marling, momentarily diverted by curiosity.