“I was born Princess Marie,” she continued, “and Princess Marie is the name I love, and the name my friends still call me by.”
“Then you shall be Princess Marie to me, and——”
He paused. The clock-tower of the Sumaroff Palace chimed the hour.
“One o’clock!” said Princess Marie—to use the name favoured by her—speaking with a sort of dismay in her voice. “I have stayed too long. I must return, Lord Courtenay, will you escort me to the ballroom, and there—there we must part.”
“Part! We have but just met. If we part, when are we to meet again?”
“Never, I fear.”
“Never is a hard word.”
“Do you think it is not hard for me to say it?” murmured the Princess, as she rose to her feet, evidently bent on going.
“Stay, Princess. You have not yet redeemed all your promise. There is your present name, and—the—the kiss.”
“You will not let me off?”