a."

"And if I don't?" she forced the words through her stiff lips.

"But you will!" he said hoarsely. "You will!"

There was a dangerous note in his voice. The man had got beyond the
stage to be played with. In the silence of the room Magda could hear his
laboured breathing, feel his heart leaping against her own soft breast
crushed against his. It frightened her.

"You'll let me go if I do?" The words seemed to run into each other in
her helpless haste.

"I'll let you go."

"Very well."

Slowly, reluctantly she lifted her face to his and kissed him. But the
touch of her lips on his scattered the last vestige of his self-control.

"My beloved . . . Beloved!"

He seized her roughly in his arms. She felt his kisses overwhelming her,
burning against her closed eyelids, bruising her soft mouth and throat.

"I love you . . . worship you----"

"Let me go!" she cried shrilly, struggling against him. "Let me go--you
promised it!"

He released her, drawing slowly back, his arms falling unwillingly away
from her.

"Oh, yes," he muttered confusedly. "I did promise."

The instant she felt his grip relax, Magda sprang forward and switched
on the centre burners, flooding the room with a blaze of light, and in
the sudden glare she and Davilof stood staring silently at each other.

With the springing up of the lights it was as though a spell had broken.
The strained, hunted expression left Magda's face. She wasn't frightened
any longer. Davilof was no more the man whose sudden passion had surged
about her, threatening to break down all defences and overwhelm her.
He was just Davilof, her accompanist, who, like half the men of her
acquaintance, was more or less in love with her and who had overstepped
the boundary which she had very definitely marked out between herself
and him.

She regarded him stormily.

"Have you gone mad?" she asked contemptuously.

He returned her look, his eyes curiously brilliant. Then he laughed
suddenly.

"Mad?" he said. "Yes, I think I _am_ mad. Mad with love for you!
Magda"--he came and stood close beside her--"don't send me away! Don't
say you can't care for me! You don't love me now--but I could teach
you." His voice deepened. "I love you so much. Oh, sweetest!--_Soul_ of
me! Love is so beautiful. Let me teach you how beautiful it is!"

Magda drew back.

"No," she said. The brief negative fell clear and distinct as a bell.

"I won't take no," he returned hotly. "I won't take n