‘Go back,’ murmured Phroso almost inaudibly.
‘Go back—thinking of those wonderful eyes?’
‘No, no. Thinking of—’
‘The lady who waits for me over the sea?’
‘Yes. And oh, my lord, I pray that you will find happiness!’
There was a moment’s silence. Phroso did not look at me; but then I did look at Phroso.
‘Then you refuse, Phroso, to have anything to say to me?’
No answer at all reached me; I came nearer, being afraid that I might not have heard her reply.
‘What am I to do for a wife, Phroso?’ I asked forlornly. ‘Because, Phroso—’