But very soon.

The sooner the better, I think." And then the sleek and courtly Samoval, detaching from, seeming to materialise out of, the glittering throng they had entered, was bowing low before her, claiming her attention.

Knowing her feelings, Tremayne would not have relinquished her, but to his infinite amazement she herself slipped her fingers from his scarlet sleeve, to place them upon the black one that Samoval was gracefully proffering, and greeted Samoval with a gay raillery as oddly in contrast with her grave demeanour towards the captain as with her recent avowal of detestation for the Count.
Stricken and half angry, Tremayne stood looking after them as they receded towards the ballroom.

To increase his chagrin came a laugh from Miss Armytage, sharp and rather strident, floating towards him, and Miss Armytage's laugh was wont to be low and restrained.

Samoval, no doubt, had resources to amuse a woman--even a woman who instinctively, disliked him--resources of which Captain Tremayne himself knew nothing.
And then some one tapped him on the shoulder.