“She has the loveliest face in St. Petersburg.”
“Not ill-favoured? The daughter of a vulgar merchant, or of some wealthy serf desirous of obtaining a nobleman for his son-in-law?”
“On the contrary, her father is a prince.”
Wilfrid started. He thought of the gipsy’s prophecy.
“Is the lady of fallen fortunes?”
“She can command millions of roubles.”
“A prisoner immured within a fortress from which you would have me rescue her?”
“Nothing of the sort.”
“A cloistered nun, repentant of her vows?”
“Not at all. She moves freely in Court circles.”