What would their surprise have been, could they have heard him say icily to his bride as he descended the stairs: 

“There is a stupid custom that I must kiss you as we go into the dining-room, and give you this little golden key—­a sort of ridiculous emblem of the endowment of all the worldly goods business.  The servants are, of course, looking at us, so please don’t start.”  Then he glanced up and saw the rows of interested, excited faces; and that devil-may-care, rollicking boyishness which made him so adored came over him, and he laughed up at them, and waved his hand:  and Zara’s rage turned to wild excitement, too.  There would be the walk across the hall of sixty paces, and then he would kiss her.  What would it be like?  In those sixty paces her face grew more purely white, while he came to the resolve that for this one second he would yield to temptation and not only brush her forehead with his lips, as had been his intention, but for once—­just for this once—­he would kiss her mouth.  He was past caring about the footmen seeing.  It was his only chance.

So when they came to the threshold of the big, double doors he bent down and drew her to him, and gave her the golden key.  And then he pressed his warm, young, passionate lips to hers.  Oh! the mad joy of it!  And even if it were only from duty and to play the game, she had not resisted him as upon that other occasion.  He felt suddenly, absolutely intoxicated, as he had done on the wedding night.  Why, why must this ghastly barrier be between them?  Was there nothing to be done?  Then he looked at his bride as they advanced to the table, and he saw that she was so deadly white that he thought she was going to faint.  For intoxication, affects people in different ways; for her, the kiss had seemed the sweetness of death.

“Give her ladyship some champagne immediately,” he ordered the butler, and, still with shining eyes, he looked at her, and said gently, “for we must drink our own healths.”

But Zara never raised her lids, only he saw that her little nostrils were quivering, and by the rise and fall of her beautiful bosom he knew that her heart must be beating as madly as was his own—­and a wild triumph filled him.  Whatever the emotion she was experiencing, whether it was anger, or disdain, or one he did not dare to hope for, it was a considerably strong one; she was, then, not so icily cold!  How he wished there were some more ridiculous customs in his family!  How he wished he might order the servants out of the room, and begin to make love to her all alone.  And just out of the devilment which was now in his blood he took the greatest pleasure in “playing the game,” and while the solemn footmen’s watchful eyes were upon them, he let himself go and was charming to her; and then, each instant they were alone he made himself freeze again, so that she could not say he was not keeping to the bargain.  Thus in wild excitement for them both