"—Ornaments of gold,
One with the dust; and none to gather them;—
Hair-pins of jade and many a costly gem,
Kingfishers' wings and golden beads scarce cold."
Lingering a moment in the faint reflection of the low-turned footlights, she stood looking out over the silent audience; and perhaps her eyes found what they had been seeking, for she smiled and stepped back as the curtain closed. And no uproar of applause could lure her forth again until the lights had been long blazing and the dancers were whirling over the armoury floor, and she had washed the paint from lid and lip and cheek, and put off her rustling antique silken splendour to bewitch another century scarce begun.
Desboro, waiting at her dressing-room door for her, led her forth.
"You have done so much for me," he whispered. "Is there anything in all the world I can do for you, Jacqueline?"
She was laughing, flushed by the flattery and compliments from every side, but she heard him; and after a moment her face altered subtly. But she answered lightly:
"Can I ask for more than a dance or two with you? Is not that honour enough?" Her voice was gay and mocking, but the smile had faded from eye and lip; only the curved sweetness of the mouth remained.
They caught the music's beat and swung away together among the other dancers, he piloting her with great adroitness between the avenues of armoured figures.
When he had the opportunity, he said: "What may I send you that you would care for?"
"Send me?" She laughed lightly again. "Let me see! Well, then, perhaps you may one day send me—send me forth 'between tall avenues of spears, to die.'"
"What!" he said sharply.