immaculate arms and
shoulders and the rich warmth of her face with its alluring, shadowed
eyes that seemed to mock him with light, fascinating malice, of the
magnetism of her intense, ineluctable vitality diffused as naturally as
sunlight. But--the thought rankled--Arkroyd had won three dances to his
two; and through all that day Alison had seemed determined to avoid him,
to keep herself surrounded by an obsequious crowd, impenetrable to her
lover....

On the deck below the band began to play again: signalling the end of
the intermission. Alison hummed lightly a bit of the melody, her silken
slipper tapping the deck.

"Do I get another dance?" he asked suddenly.

She broke off her humming. "So sorry," she said; "my card is quite full
and running over."

"May I see it?" She surrendered it without hesitation. He frowned,
endeavouring to decipher the scrawl by the inadequate moonlight.

"You wanted to know--?" she enquired, with a laugh back of her tone.

"How many has Arkroyd, this half?" he demanded bluntly.

"Two, I think," she answered coolly. "Why?"

He stared gravely into her shadowed face. "Is that good advertising,
too," he asked quietly--"to show marked preference to a man of Arkroyd's
calibre and reputation?"

Alison laughed. "You're delicious when you're jealous, Staff," said she.
"No; it isn't advertising--it's discipline."

"Discipline?"

"Just that. I'm punishing you for your obstinacy about the play. You'll
see, my dear," she taunted him: "I'm going to have my own way or make
your life perfectly miserable."

Before he could invent an adequate retort, the beautiful Mr. Bangs came
tripping across the deck, elation in his manner.

"Ah, there you are, Miss Landis! My dance, you know. Been looking
everywhere for you."

"So sorry: I was just coming down."

Alison caught up the demi-train of her gown, but paused an instant
longer, staring Staff full in the face, her air taunting and
provocative.

"Think it over, Staff," she advised in a cool, metallic voice; and
dropping her hand on Bangs' arm, moved languidly away.

Staff did think it over, if with surprisingly little satisfaction to
himself. It wasn't possible to ignore the patent fact that Alison had
determined to make him come to heel. That apparently was the only
attitude possible for one who aspired to the post of first
playwright-in-waiting and husband-in-ordinary to the first actress in
the land. He doubted his ability to supple his