"As you say. I shall be able to tell you that the back of your mantel was cut in a V-shape nearly reaching to your waist-line. Shall I tell you why?"
"If you're keen to...." She felt a scorching breath between her shoulders and quickened her pace, making for the avenue. But he moved with her, his voice came thickly: "Because your back is so superbly beautiful you cannot bear to hide it from men!"
"Ah-h!"
She whirled about, glaring like an angry leopardess, her strong white arm upraised to strike. Face, throat, and bosom glowed with painful crimson. Between her violated, insulted shoulders, his furious kiss still burned and stung.
"How dare you touch me!" she gasped. But he had shot past her even as she turned. He was running towards the avenue, calling gaily:
"Were you looking for us, Lady Beauvayse? Here we are!"
"Cad, cad!" she stammered. "Insufferable! beastly!" Then, because a scene was quite out of the question, she went forward with head held high, and resentment heaving her broad bosom, to meet Lady Beauvayse.
"Pat! You needle in a haystack," cried her friend, "where did you get to?"
"Nowhere. We missed you at the Café Concert," Patrine began.
"And then," von Herrnung explained, "we happened to take the wrong turn. But we have not gone far before we are recalled."