"I could not know," he answered in a low voice. "But I should not have kissed you."
He knew that she could not understand the point of honour that was so clear to him.
"Let me think for you, sometimes," she said.
Her voice was as low as his, but dreamily passionate, and the strange young magic vibrated in it, which perfect innocence wields with a destroying strength not even guessed at by itself.
The door opened and the Princess entered the room in a leisurely fashion, wreathed in smiles. She had successfully done what it would be very hard for Malipieri to undo. He rose.
"Have you told Sabina what I said?" she enquired.
"Yes."
She turned to the girl, who was leaning back in the corner of the sofa.
"Of course you agree, my child?" she said, with a question in her voice, though with no intonation of doubt as to the answer.
"Certainly," Sabina answered, with perfect self-possession. "I think it was by far the most sensible we could do. Signor Malipieri will come to see us, as if he and I were really engaged."