Trafford's countenance indicated that he thought that the bantering note in her voice and words was distinctly out-of-place, but notwithstanding he drew his chair closer and began:
"Princess, we have not known each other long——"
"We have not known each other at all," she quickly interrupted.
"Pardon me," corrected Trafford, with a fierce energy that always possessed him at a crisis. "You diagnosed me admirably in your dressing-room at the Eden Theatre. With equal perspicacity I have diagnosed you on our frosty drive hither. Shall I tell it?—yes? Well, then, a nature ardent but pure, fierce without being cruel, simple without being foolish. I see youth, birth and beauty blended into one exhilarating whole—and I bow down and worship. To a heart like yours, nothing is impossible—not even the capacity of falling in love with an adventurous American. I do not make you a proposal of marriage, but a matrimonial proposition." He paused to note the effect of his words before concluding with: "Now then, if by my efforts I can secure for you the throne of Grimland, will you reward me with your heart and hand?"
The Princess drew in a long breath, half-astonishment, half-admiration.
"That is one of the impossibilities that does not come off—even in Grimland," she told him at last.
"Listen," Trafford went on impetuously, "I shall only ask for my reward in the event of your being crowned in the Cathedral of Weidenbruck, and in the event of your acknowledging of your own free will that I have been mainly instrumental in winning you your sovereignty."
The Princess bit her lips and nodded silently, as if weighing his words. Something, however, impelled her to make the obvious objection.
"In the event of my being crowned Queen of Grimland," she reminded him, "I shall not be permitted to marry whom I will. If I married you without the consent of my counsellors and Parliament the marriage would be, ipso facto, null and void."
"All I ask is your promise to go through the ceremony with the necessary legal and religious forms."