"You heard what we were saying." Karyl spoke gently, deferentially. "And it seemed to you incredible that we should be confidential on such a subject. It would be so, except that we are both seeking the same end—your service—" he paused, then added miserably—"and your happiness."
She listened in wonderment as she held out her hand to Benton and watched trance-like his lowered head as he bent his lips to her fingers.
"Cara!" Karyl had stepped back and was leaning over, his elbows resting on the stone back of one of the low benches. His fingers tightly grasped the carved ornaments at its top. His words were carefully chosen and measuredly spoken. He knew that if he permitted one expression to escape him unguardedly, with it would slip away the command by which he was curbing mutinous emotions.
"Cara, I happened to be born a Prince, who should one day develop into a King. It chanced that Nature had a sense of humor—so Nature paid me a droll compliment. She gave me a futile ambition to be a man—me, whom she had decided was to be only a King!"
The group stood silent and attentive in a strained tableau, except for Von Ritz, who paced back and forth just beyond the fountain, as though respectfully repudiating the whole unseemly episode.
"Then I fell in love with you," went on the King of Galavia. "You married me—because State reasons demanded it. I could not win your love—he did!" He turned toward Benton, and his voice, though it held its slow control, was bitter.
"Benton, do you fancy this puny game amuses me? Do I not know that you could buy a principality like this for a souvenir of Europe if it happened to please you? The one time I have been allowed to feel a man was in your country, where we met as equal rivals.... No, not equal even then, because you were the winner, I the loser."
"Karyl," the Queen spoke in a low voice, "I can give you loyalty, admiration, respect and my life to use as you see fit to use it. I give as freely as I can. My love I do not refuse—it is just ... just that it is not mine to give." She spoke with unutterable weariness. "I seem to bring only sorrow to those who love me."
"You can give me all but love," Karyl repeated very softly, leaning forward toward her, "and love is all there is! Without it I take all else you give me as a thief takes, without right. If being a King means being your jailer, then I am done with being a King!"
"Your Majesty," cut in Von Ritz sharply, "it is time to terminate this talk. It has no end. It is aimless argument which comes only back to the starting point."