(Again Dehra pressed my fingers.)
"And did he hold her hand afterward?" she asked—freeing her own from the Duke's.
"They were not alone," he said—and tried to take it again.
But she put both hands behind her.
"Come, Your Highness, this is not the Masque," she said. But there was no reproof in her tones.
"Tell me," said he; "how did you know me, last night?"
"What matters it? Particularly, since it was only because you knew me that you spoke."
"You think I was searching for you?" he asked.
She blew a cloud of smoke under the lamp shade and watched it float out at the top.
"Were you?" she asked.