“Especially when he learns that she is a princess!” said she, her voice so cold and repellent that his eyes closed, involuntarily, as if an unexpected horror had come before them. “You must not tell me that you came to see me.
“But I did come to see you and not Her Royal Highness the Princess Yetive of Graustark. How was I to know?” he cried impulsively.
“But you are no longer ignorant,” she said, looking from the window.
“I thought you said you were a mere woman!”
“I am—and that is the trouble!” she said, slowly turning her eyes back to him. Then she abruptly sank to the window seat near his head. “That is the trouble, I say. A woman is a woman, although she be a princess. Don't you understand why you must not say such things to me?”
“Because you are a princess,” he said, bitterly.
“No; because I am a woman. As a woman I want to hear them, as, a princess I cannot. Now, have I made you understand? Have I been bold enough?” Her face was burning.
“You—you don't mean that you—” he half whispered, drawing himself toward her, his face glowing.
“Ach! What have I said?”
“You have said enough to drive me mad with desire for more,” he cried, seizing her hand, which she withdrew instantly, rising to her feet.