Within this fortification rang out laughter and sally from Miss Carewe; her color was high and her eyes sparkled never more brightly.
Flourish and alarums sounded for a quadrille.

Each of the semi-circle, firmly elbowing his neighbor, begged the dance of Miss Betty; but Tom was himself again, and laid a long, strong hand on Madrillon's shoulder, pressed him gently aside, and said: "Forgive me; Miss Carewe has honored me by the promise of this quadrille." He bowed, offering his arm, and none of them was too vain to envy that bow and gesture.
For a moment he remained waiting.

Miss Carewe rose slowly, and, directly facing him, said in composed and even voice: "You force me to beg you never to address me again." She placed her hand on the General's arm, turning her back squarely upon Tom.
In addition to those who heard, many persons in that part of the room saw the affront and paused in arrested attitudes; others, observing these, turned inquiringly, so that sudden silence fell, broken only by the voice of Miss Betty as she moved away, talking cheerily to the General.

Tom was left standing alone in the broken semicircle.
All the eyes swept from her to him and back; then everyone began to talk hastily about nothing.

The young man's humiliation was public.
He went to the door under cover of the movement of the various couples to find places in the quadrille, yet every sidelong glance in the room still rested upon him, and he knew it.