Miss Milborne rose from her chair abruptly. “I think you are the most odious, abominable creature in the world!” she said angrily. “I never — Oh, I wish you will go away!”
“If you send me away, I shall go straight to the devil!” threatened his lordship.
Miss Milborne tittered. “I dare say you will find yourself mightily at home, my lord!”
The Viscount ground his teeth. “You will be sorry for your cruelty, ma’am, when it is too late!”
“Really, my lord, if we are to talk of play-acting — !”
“Who’s talking of play-acting?” demanded the Viscount.
“You did.”
“Never talked of any such thing! You’re enough to drive a man out of his senses, Isabella!”
She shrugged and turned away from him. The Viscount, feeling that he had perhaps not shown that lover-like ardour which, he was persuaded, consumed him, took two strides towards her and tried to take her in his arms. He received a box on the ear which made his eyes water, and for an instant was in danger of forgetting that he was no longer a schoolboy confronting a tiresome little girl. Miss Milborne, reading retaliation in his face, strategically retired behind a small table, and said tragically: “Go!”
The Viscount regarded her with a measuring eye. “By God, if I could get my hands on you, Bella, I’d — ” He broke off as his incensed gaze absorbed her undeniable beauty. His face softened. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said. “Wouldn’t hurt a hair of your head! Now, Bella, won’t you — ”