He assumed such an absurdly pathetic expression that Myra laughed in
spite of herself, and quite forgot to continue to be angry and offended.
"You are an utterly impossible person, Don Carlos," she commented,
dimpling into smiles. "Sit down and let me give you tea and anything
else you want."
"Ten thousand thanks, Myra!" cried Don Carlos. "How wonderful!
Anything else I want! The tea does not matter, but I want ten thousand
kisses from the woman who has entranced and enraptured my heart. I
want to hold you in my arms, Myra mine, clasped close to my breast, to
set your darling heart afire with burning kisses, to kiss the heart out
of you then kiss it back again all aflame with love and longing. Myra,
darling, I love you as I have never loved before, and I want you for my
wife."
He stretched out his arms as if to enfold Myra in them, but she evaded
him adroitly. She had been listening half-fascinated, conscious of the
spell of his personality, thrilled by the passionate tones of his deep,
musical voice, but she broke the spell and recovered herself in an
instant.
"Quite an effective piece of play-acting!" she remarked, forcing a
laugh. "You really should be on the stage, Don Carlos, or acting for
the movies. I feel sure you would be a success as a film actor, and
all the flappers would lose their hearts to you. Will you have some
tea?"
"Myra, I am not acting," Don Carlos protested, at last showing signs of
chagrin. "I am in deadly earnest. I love you and want you, and the
Devil himself will not prevent me from making you my own."
"His Satanic Majesty need not concern himself with the affair at all,
at all," retorted Myra, regarding him coldly. "Let me save him the
trouble by assuring you that your eloquent and melodramatic
protestations of love leave me cold, and your boast that no woman has
ever been able to resist you inspired me only with contempt for your
conceit. Let me remind you again, also, that I am engaged to be
married to Mr. Antony Standish, and assure you I have not the slightest
intention of transferring my affections from an English gentleman to a
Spaniard who evidently prides himself on being a sort of modern Don
Juan."
Don Carlos's face went white beneath the tan as he listened to the
scathing words, and a gleam of anger flashed into his dark eyes.
"You do me an injustice, and I think you are doing your own heart an
injustice, Myra," he said, in a curiously quiet voice, after a
momentary pause. "If----"