The prince sat forward and looked hard at his friend.
“Oh, you need not be alarmed. I know nothing,” was the answer. “But I am not a complete fool. I put two and two together at random. I only guess, as you know. I have guessed all my life. And as often as not I have guessed right, as you know. Ah! you think I am interfering in that which is not my business, and I do not care a snap of the finger what you think!”
And he illustrated this indifference with a gesture of his finger and thumb.
The prince laughed suddenly and boisterously.
“If I did not know that you had broken your heart—more than once—long ago,” he began. But Deulin interrupted him.
“Only once,” he put in, with a short, hard laugh.
“Well, only once, then. I should say that you had fallen in love with Wanda.”
“Ah!” said Deulin, lightly, “that is an old affair. That happened when she used to ride upon my shoulder. And one keeps a tenderness for one's old loves, you know.”
“Well, and what do you propose to do? I tell you honestly I have had no time to think of my own affairs. I have had no courage to think of them, perhaps. I have been at work all night. Yes, yes! I know! Thin ice! You ought to know it when you see it. You have been on it all your life, and through it—”
“Only once,” repeated Deulin. “I propose what any other young lover would propose to do—to run away with her from Warsaw.”