"Ah, must you go, my lady?"
"Till this evening, dear lad."
Anthony sighed fretfully.
"And I've wasted all our precious time with my old dream. I've hardly spoken of you, and there's so much I want to know."
"We've plenty of time, darling. Think of it. Once we never knew when—if, even, we should ever see one another again. Now … Oh, Anthony, we're very rich."
"I am," said Anthony, smiling. "And when you say you are—why, then I feel like a king."
Valerie flung up her head. An instant, and she was singing….
"If I were a queen,
What would I do?
I'd make you a king
And I'd wait upon you—
If I were a queen."
Never melody knew such tenderness. Poor Anthony could not trust himself to speak….
Valerie stooped and laid a soft cheek against his. Then she pressed his hand to her lips.