“Lord Courtenay,” said the Princess, turning her deep serious eyes upon him, “let me hear again the story you told this morning. I am naturally curious to learn all I can about myself.”
Compliant with her wish Wilfrid repeated his narrative, finding a pleasure in the telling of it, partly because he loved to dwell upon everything connected with Marie, partly because it was pleasant to have so fair and interested a listener.
“You seem to have remembered my words very well,” she murmured, noting that he had repeated her utterances with little or no variation.
“I trust you do not impute that to me as a fault?”
“And have you told me all? Have you kept nothing back?”
Just a trace of embarrassment appeared upon Wilfrid’s face, but, faint as it was, it did not escape her quick glance.
“I can see it! No, do not equivocate. You are hiding something from me.”
Wilfrid’s manner confirmed the Princess in her opinion. What was he to do? Tell her that she was suspected of being the Czar’s favourite? No, much as he hated deceit he would rather tell a downright lie than let a thought such as that rankle in her mind!
“Why do you hesitate to tell me all?” she asked.