“Better than you did?”
“Yes,” he gravely maintained, “better than I did. And she didn’t really know you at all. She doesn’t know you now.”
“Ah, yes she does!” said Maggie.
But he shook his head—he knew what he meant. “She not only doesn’t understand you more than I, she understands you ever so much less. Though even I—!”
“Well, even you?” Maggie pressed as he paused. “Even I, even I even yet—!” Again he paused and the silence held them.
But Maggie at last broke it. “If Charlotte doesn’t understand me, it is that I’ve prevented her. I’ve chosen to deceive her and to lie to her.”
The Prince kept his eyes on her. “I know what you’ve chosen to do. But I’ve chosen to do the same.”
“Yes,” said Maggie after an instant—“my choice was made when I had guessed yours. But you mean,” she asked, “that she understands YOU?”
“It presents small difficulty!”
“Are you so sure?” Maggie went on.