Dorothy said: "That I cannot tell you, father. You are wasting words in asking me."
"Is it because of his wish that you refuse to tell me his name?" asked Sir George. I nodded my head.
"Yes, father," softly responded Dorothy in the old dangerous, dulcet tones.
"That is enough; I know who the man is."
Dorothy kissed her father. He returned the caress, much to my surprise, and left the room.
When I turned to follow Sir George I glanced toward Dorothy. Her eyes were like two moons, so full were they of wonderment and inquiry.
I stopped with Sir George in his room. He was meditative and sad.
"I believe my Doll has told me the truth," he said.
"Have no doubt of it, Sir George," I replied.
"But what good intent can Leicester have toward my girl?" he asked.