"My lord, if you have anything to say, you must say it plainly. There never was a woman worse than I am at the reading of riddles."
"Could you endure to live in the quietude of an Italian lake with an old man?" Now he touched her again, and had taken her hand.
"No, my lord;—nor with a young one,—for all my days. But I do not know that age would guide me."
Then the Duke rose and made his proposition in form. "Marie, you know that I love you. Why it is that I at my age should feel so sore a love, I cannot say."
"So sore a love!"
"So sore, if it be not gratified. Marie, I ask you to be my wife."
"Duke of Omnium, this from you!"
"Yes, from me. My coronet is at your feet. If you will allow me to raise it, I will place it on your brow."
Then she went away from him, and seated herself at a distance. After a moment or two he followed her, and stood with his arm upon her shoulder. "You will give me an answer, Marie?"
"You cannot have thought of this, my lord."