"Who are you?" repeated the girl. "I have never seen your face before or one like yours."
"And I," said von Harben, "have never seen a girl like you. Perhaps I am dreaming. Perhaps you do not exist at all, for it does not seem credible that in the world of realities such a one as you could exist."
The girl blushed. "You are not of Castrum Mare," she said. "That I can see." Her tone was a trifle cold and slightly haughty.
"I have offended you," said von Harben. "I ask your pardon. I did not mean to be offensive, but coming upon you so unexpectedly quite took my breath away."
"And your manners, too?" asked the girl, but now her eyes were smiling.
"You have forgiven me?" asked von Harben.
"You will have to tell me who you are and why you are here before I can answer that," she replied. "For all I know you might be an enemy or a barbarian."
Von Harben laughed. "Mallius Lepus, who invited me here, insists that I am a barbarian," he said, "but even so I am the guest of Septimus Favonius, his uncle."
The girl shrugged. "I am not surprised," she said. "My father is notorious for the guests he honors."
"You are the daughter of Favonius?" asked von Harben.