It was a very old and beautiful stone doorway, and the carving of the oak door was worn with long use. It opened to us as we approached, and there stood Katerina on the threshold, in her green velvet gown, smiling ecstatically, her hair shining against the light like an aureole, her eyes bright with pleasure.
“I rub my magic lamp and you appear,” said John.
“They signalled to me from the customs house,” she answered. “I knew you must be coming here. Did you forget something?”
He jumped out of the car, and caught her hand. “Never,” he promised. “I couldn’t do that.”
Her voice trembled happily as she answered, “do you know, I rather thought you would come?”
“You asked me in Vorgo,” he smiled. “You said the affairs of this country might become mine if I chose. I have chosen. That’s why I went away from here, and why I came back.”
“The best of reasons,” she answered, teasingly, “patriotism! But are you always so sudden in your entrances and your exits?”
“I’m too entranced ever to make another exit,” he said, and together they went into the old house.
I muttered something about putting the car in the garage, but there was no one to pay any attention to me, so I stayed where I was.
I didn’t want to get out of the car without a shoe.