“We must never meet again, Bourgwan,” she said, with one of her sweet smiles. “You tempt me so. I could not trust myself again.”
“God keep you, Gatrina. Good-bye;” and I pressed my lips to her hand and then led her to the door.
“It is even harder than the day at Samac,” she whispered, smiling again; and with those words and a last long look she passed out, and I was alone in the room—alone for always.
I was staring desolately out into the garden when Colonel Petrosch came back.
“I thought perhaps you might wish to say a word or two to the Princess, Mr. Bergwyn; and now I want to speak to you.”
“Yes; what is it?” I answered, indifferently. Nothing mattered now. What he said or didn’t say was all one to me.
“I am going to ask you for your confidence.”
“Well?”
“About the—the Princess.”
“Except to know that she will be safe, I would rather not speak of her,” I answered, abruptly.