"Twist it off?" I asked, curiously.
"I—I don't know. Look at me, Mr. Cardigan."
I met her pretty eyes.
"No, not quite off," she said, thoughtfully. "You are a nice boy, but not very bright. If you were you would pay me compliments instead of admonition. Perhaps you will after the Madeira. Perhaps you will even make love to me."
"I will do it before the Madeira," said I. "You are certainly the prettiest woman in Johnson Hall to-night, and if you've a mind for vengeance on your faithless dragoon yonder, pray take me for the instrument, Mrs. Hamilton."
"Hush!" she said, with a startled smile. "I may take you at your word."
"I am taking you at yours," said I, recklessly, and loud enough for Silver Heels to hear.
In the dull din of voices around us I heard Silver Heels's laugh, but the laugh was strained, and I knew she was looking at me and listening.
"I don't know what you mean," said Mrs. Hamilton, reddening, "but I know you to be a somewhat indiscreet young man who handles a woman as he would a club to beat his rival to the earth withal."
"I mean," said I, in a low voice, "to make love to you and so serve us both. Look at me, Mrs. Hamilton."