“I thought you would step aside and wait a few seconds for me, or dance with Henderson.  It was most important to have that moth.  It completes a valuable collection for a person who needs the money.  Come!”

He held out his arms.

“I ‘step aside’ for no one!” stormed Edith Carr.  “I await no other girl’s pleasure!  You may ‘complete the collection’ with that!”

She drew her engagement ring from her finger and reached to place it on one of Philip’s outstretched hands.  He saw and drew back.  Instantly Edith dropped the ring.  As it fell, almost instinctively Philip caught it in air.  With amazed face he looked closely at Edith Carr.  Her distorted features were scarcely recognizable.  He held the ring toward her.

“Edith, for the love of mercy, wait until I can explain,” he begged.  “Put on your ring and let me tell you how it is.”

“I know perfectly ‘how it is,’” she answered.  “I never shall wear that ring again.”

“You won’t even hear what I have to say?  You won’t take back your ring?” he cried.

“Never!  Your conduct is infamous!”

“Come to think of it,” said Philip deliberately, “it is ‘infamous’ to cut a girl, who has danced all her life, out of a few measures of a waltz.  As for asking forgiveness for so black a sin as picking up a moth, and starting it to a friend who lives by collecting them, I don’t see how I could!  I have not been gone three minutes by the clock, Edith.  Put on your ring and finish the dance like a dear girl.”

He thrust the glittering ruby into her fingers and again held out his arms.  She dropped the ring, and it rolled some distance from them.  Hart Henderson followed its shining course, and caught it before it was lost.

“You really mean it?” demanded Philip in a voice as cold as hers ever had been.

“You know I mean it!” cried Edith Carr.

“I accept your decision in the presence of these witnesses,” said Philip Ammon.  “Where is my father?” The elder Ammon with a distressed face hurried to him.  “Father, take my place,” said Philip.  “Excuse me to my guests.  Ask all my friends to forgive me.  I am going away for awhile.”

He turned and walked from the pavilion.  As he went Hart Henderson rushed to Edith Carr and forced the ring into her fingers.  “Edith, quick.  Come, quick!” he implored.  “There’s just time to catch him.  If you let him go that way, he never will return in this world.  Remember what I told you.”

“Great prophet! aren’t you, Hart?” she sneered.  “Who wants him to return?  If that ring is thrust upon me again I shall fling it into the lake.  Signal the musicians to begin, and dance with me.”

Henderson put the ring into his pocket, and began the dance.  He could feel the muscular spasms of the girl in his arms, her face was cold and hard, but her breath burned with the scorch of fever.  She finished the dance and all others, taking Phil’s numbers with Henderson, who had arrived too late to arrange a programme.  She left with the others, merely inclining her head as she passed Ammon’s father taking his place, and entered the big touring car for which Henderson had telephoned.  She sank limply into a seat and moaned softly.