around that exquisite neck of
yours."

"Try it."

"No, I do not believe it would be wise. But if ever I find out that you
have lied to me, that you loved the fellow and married me out of
spite...." He completed the sentence by suggestively crunching a nut.

The sullen expression on her face gave place to a smile. "I should like to
see you in a rage."

"No, my heart; you would like nothing of the sort. I understand you better
than you know; that accounts for my patience. You are Italian. You are
caprice and mood. I come from a cold land. If ever I do get angry, run,
run as fast as ever you can."

Flora was not, among other things, frivolous or light-headed. There was an
earthquake hidden somewhere in this quiet docile man, and the innate
deviltry of the woman was always trying to dig down to it. But she never
deceived herself. Some day this earthquake would open up and devour her.

"I hate him. He snubbed me. I have told you that a thousand times."

He laughed and rattled the nuts in his hat.

"I want you to get that invitation."

"And if I do not?"

"I shall return immediately to Paris."

"And break your word to me?"

"As easily as you break one of these nuts."

"And if I get the invitation?"

"I shall fulfil my promise to the letter. I will tell her as I promised."

"Out of love for me?"

"Out of love for you, and because the play no longer interests me."

"I wonder what new devilment is at work in your mind?"

"Michael, I do not want to get into a temper. It makes lines in my face. I
hate this place. It is dead. I want life, and color, and music. I want the
rest of September in Ostend."

"Paris, Capri, Taormina, Ostend; I marvel if ever you will be content to
stay in one place long enough for me to get my breath?"

"My dear, I am young. One of these days I shall be content to sit by your
great Russian fireplace and hold your hand."

"Hold it now."

She laughed and pressed his hand between her own. "Michael, look me
straight in the eyes." He did so willingly enough. "There is no other man.
And if you ever look at another woman ... Well!"

"I'll send over for the invitation." He stuffed his pockets with nuts and
put on his hat.

Flora then proceeded secretly to polish once more the Apple of Discord
which, a deal tarnished for lack of use, she had been compelled to bring
down from the promontory.

* * * * *

"Am I all right?" asked Harrigan.