"I called you Richard, Cœur de Lion, but it was a mistake. You are a sultan."
"With only one love, my Nourjehan."
CHAPTER XI
A DRAWN BATTLE
"And all the time the marble belonged in the coffee-pot spout!"
"How do you know? Who told you?"
Rufe and Cousin Eunice looked up from the grape-fruit which had been absorbing their attention. They always sleep late on Sunday morning, and, on account of the headache and croup of the night before, they had slept later than usual this morning. I had been up for hours and had already had a walk out in the brilliant October sunshine.
"Your Cousin Richard told me!"
My words were quietly spoken, with only a tiny smile that insisted upon creeping around the corners of my mouth, out of sheer happiness from speaking his name. But, quiet as they were, they electrified the two at the table.