“I’m going after a very big boar,” said I; and, because I could not help it, I began to play with her hair, but she moved her head away.
“Are you offended with me?” I asked, in feigned surprise, for I could not resist tormenting her a little. I had never seen her angry, and every fresh aspect of her was a delight to me.
“What right have I to be offended? True, you said last night that every hour away from me was wasted. But a very big boar! that’s a different thing.”
“Perhaps the boar will hunt me,” I suggested. “Perhaps, Flavia, he’ll catch me.”
She made no answer.
“You are not touched even by that danger?”
Still she said nothing; and I, stealing round, found her eyes full of tears.
“You weep for my danger?”
Then she spoke very low:
“This is like what you used to be; but not like the King—the King I—I have come to love!”