I tell you it's intoxicating me because I don't know how to endure it." He caught fire at her emotion; her palm was burning in his, her breath came irregularly, lips and cheeks were aflame, as they came to a breathless halt in the torchlight.
"Dear," she faltered, "I simply _must_ be decent to my guests....

I'm dying to dance with you again, but I can't be so rude....

Oh, goodness! here they come, hordes of them.

I'll give them a dance or two--anybody who speaks first, and then you'll come and find me, won't you ?...

Isn't that enough to give them--two or three dances?
Isn't that doing my duty as chatelaine sufficiently ?" "Don't give them any," he said with conviction.