The instinct of the male bestirred itself--the curious
instinct of resentment against another man--any other man. And, in
this case, Mount Dunstan was not any other man, but one for whom his
antipathy was personal.
"I won't have that," he said to himself. "I won't have it."
. . . . .
The music rose and swelled, and then sank into soft breathing, as they
moved in harmony together, gliding and swirling as they threaded their
way among other couples who swirled and glided also, some of them light
and smiling, some exchanging low-toned speech--perhaps saying words
which, unheard by others, touched on deep things. The exalted guest fell
into momentary silence as he looked on, being a man much attracted by
physical fineness and temperamental power and charm. A girl like that
would bring a great deal to a man and to the country he belonged to. A
great race might be founded on such superbness of physique and health
and beauty. Combined with abnormal resources, certainly no more could
be asked. He expressed something of the kind to Lord Dunholm, who stood
near him in attendance.
To herself Betty was saying: "That was a strange thing he asked me. It
is curious that we say so little.
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