He bowed his head. For a moment neither spoke. Then she took the rose from her breast and kissed it.
"Sir Knight of the Red Rose," she said, with a pitifully forced smile. "I don't want to give it back—ever. I want to keep it always."
He took her in his arms, and she offered no protest.
"To-morrow is to-morrow," he said. "To-day you are mine. I love you."
She took his head between her palms and drew his face down. "I shall never do this with anyone else," she said slowly, kissing his forehead. "I love you."
Slowly they turned together toward the house.
"I like your cavalryman, Pagratide," he said thoughtfully. His mind had suddenly recurred to the scene in the foreigner's room, and he thought he began to understand. "He is a man. He dares to challenge royal wrath by venturing his love in the lists against his prince."
"I wish he had not come," she said slowly.
"But you don't love him?" he demanded with sudden unreasoning jealousy.
"I love—just, only, solely, you, Mr. Monopoly," she replied.