She hid her face instead, burning and quivering still from the touch of those passionate lips, hid it low against her lover’s breast, too shamed even for speech.

There came a movement, the halting movement of a lame man, and she heard Scott’s voice.  It pierced her intolerably, perfectly gentle though it was.

“I am sorry to intrude,” he said.  “But Isabel begged me to come and look for—­Dinah.”  His pause before the name was scarcely perceptible, but that also pierced her through and through.  “I don’t think she is quite equal to this.”

Sir Eustace uttered his faint, contemptuous laugh.  “You hear, Dinah?” he said.  “This gallant knight has come to your rescue.  Look up and tell him if you want to be rescued!”

But she could not look up.  She could, only cling to him in voiceless abasement.  There was a brief silence, and then she felt his hand upon her head.  He spoke again, the sneering note gone from his voice though it still held a faint inflection of sardonic humour.

“You needn’t be anxious, most worthy Scott.  Leave her to me for five minutes, and I will undertake to return her to Isabel in good condition!  You’re not wanted for the moment, man.  Can’t you see it?”

That moved Dinah.  She lifted her head from its shelter, and found her voice.

“Oh, don’t send him away:”  she entreated.  “He—­he—­it was very kind of him to come and look for me.”

Eustace’s hand caressed her dark hair for a moment.  His eyes looked down, into hers, and she saw that the glowing embers of his passion still smouldered there.

She caught her breath with a sob.  “Tell him—­not to go away!” she begged.

He smiled a little, but electricity lingered in the pressure of his arm.  “I think it is time we broke up the meeting,” he said.  “You had better run back to Isabel.  If you wish to keep this episode a secret, Scott is, I believe, gentleman enough to hold his peace.”

She was free, and very slowly she released herself.  She turned round to Scott, but still she could not—­dared not—­meet his eyes.

Her limbs were trembling painfully.  She felt weak and dizzy.  Suddenly she became aware of his hand held out to her, proffering silent assistance.

Thankfully she accepted it, feeling it close firmly, reassuringly, upon her own.  “Shall we go upstairs?” he asked, in his quiet, matter-of-fact way.  “Isabel is a little anxious about you.”

“Oh yes,” she whispered tremulously.  “Let us go!”

She tottered a little with the words, and he transferred his hold to her elbow.  He supported her steadily and sustainingly.

Eustace stepped forward, and lifted the heavy curtain for them with a mask-like ceremony.  She glanced up at him as she went through.

“Good night!” he said.

Her lips quivered in response.

He suddenly bent to her.  “Good night!” he said again.