"Cleone needs no other escort than that of her affianced husband, sir!"
"And that is I!"
"On the contrary, it is I! Cleone, sweet, come!"
Cleone sprang up.
"It's neither of you! Don't—touch me! Oh, that I should be so humiliated! I will not marry you, James! You know that I never heard what you said!"
James set his chin stubbornly.
"I'll not release you from your promise," he said.
"And nor will I." Sir Deryk was enjoying himself.
"You must release me, James!" cried Cleone. "I—I am going to wed—Sir Deryk!" She dissolved into tears. "Oh, what shall I do? What shall I do? How—how dreadful it is! Let me go! I hate you both!" She fled from them and was at her aunt's side before either had time to follow her.
"Good gracious, child, what's amiss?" exclaimed Lady Malmerstoke. "You're as white as my wig!"