“For one hour? That’s true. And how long ago is that one hour? A week or so, I suppose, as Time counts. But then came yesterday, and the thing you did for me. Now, I’ve known you always.”
“If you had, perhaps you wouldn’t want me for your friend.”
“I do want you.”
The words would come. It was true—already. He did want her. But not as a friend. His world,—a world without women, without passion fiery enough to devour principles or traditions, was upside down.
It was well that the ten minutes’ grace between dances was over, and the music for the next about to begin. A young officer, Count von Breitstein’s half-brother—who was to be Miss Mowbray’s partner—appeared in the distance, looking for her; but stopped, seeing that she was still with the Emperor.
“Good-by,” said Virginia, while her words could still be only for the ears of Leopold.
“Not good-by. We’re friends.”
“Yes. But we sha’n’t meet often.”
“Why? Are you leaving Kronburg?”