"I expect you to take my love-making seriously, Myra," he answered.
"Your expectations will not be realised, Don Carlos, and if you attempt
to repeat your conduct of to-day there will be trouble," said Myra,
forcing herself to meet his ardent eyes unflinchingly. "It is
unsportsmanlike to try to excuse yourself by throwing the blame on me,
pleading, like Adam, 'The woman tempted me.' You might at least
express regret for your conduct."
"I have no regrets, Myra," murmured Don Carlos. "I have tasted the
nectar of your lips, and now I hunger for a banquet of love."
"In that case you will surely die of starvation," said Myra, with a
light laugh.
"Dios! how you torture me, Myra!" muttered Don Carlos frowningly. "I
hoped you would tell me you had found your heart, that my kisses had at
last awakened it. I love you, love you with every fibre of my being,
and you--you love, yet you refrain."
"Quoting Henley, aren't you, Don Carlos, and trying the effect of
pathos by way of a change?" retorted Myra. "How amusing! As far as I
am concerned, you can 'break your heart on my hard unfaith and break
your heart in vain...' Don't grip my hand so tightly. You are hurting
me."
"I will hurt you if you are trifling with me and making mock of my
love," said Don Carlos quickly, through clenched teeth. "Don't try me
too far, Myra. Beware lest my love turns to hate!"
"Beware lest my love turns to hate!" mimicked Myra, and trilled out a
laugh. "You are talking like a character in an old-fashioned
melodrama. Should I play up to you by crying, 'Unhand me, villain,'
turning deathly pale, and screaming for help. Don't be absurd! ... We
won't dance the encore. But if you will promise to be sensible and
refrain from talking extravagant nonsense, you may take me in to
supper."
She felt certain that she had both hurt and puzzled Don Carlos, and she
gloried in the thought, flattering herself that she was really taking
her revenge. She was completely mistress of herself again, sure of her
own powers, and during supper she laid herself out to be "nice," with
almost devastating effect, playing on the emotions of the Spaniard like
a skilled musician on a sensitive instrument. Deliberately she
encouraged him, only to rebuff him when she had inflamed his ardour,
deliberately she set herself to excite his passions, only to reward him
with a cold douche of ridicule.