“I kept my word, Princess. Will you not keep yours?”
As Wilfrid rose to his feet she receded a pace or two, with hands put forward as if to keep him off.
“What pleasure will you have in a kiss given on compulsion?”
“Shall you give the kiss, then, from no other feeling than to get rid of the duty?”
“In what other spirit should I give it?”
“If the Princess can give only a reluctant kiss, let her give none at all.”
Princess Marie hesitated for a moment.
“I ... I will keep my promise,” she said. “But not ... not here ... on the open terrace. There ... in the shadows. It is death if ... if we are seen!”
Wilfrid took her little hand—how it trembled!—within his own, led her across the terrace, and stood beside her under the gloom of the pine trees.
“It was not stipulated that you should wear a mask,” said he.