Koltsoff bowed.
"And I! You cannot suppose I view lightly being away from you to-night!" He shrugged his shoulders. "The rose-strewn paths are not always for diplomats. You will know that better in good time, perhaps. But they are for that all the sweeter while we tread them." He moved very close to her and she, taking fire from his mood, did not step backward, looking him in the eyes, pulling slightly at the front of her skirt. In the very web of a mood which she felt bordered on surrender to the masculine personality of the man before her, she admitted a thrill, which she never before had recognized. The blood mounted swiftly to her temples and she straightened and threw her head back with lips parted and hot. His face came so close to hers that she felt his hot breath.
"Are you sorry for this afternoon?" he asked caressingly.
"Yes," her voice was a half whisper.
His arms were raising to take her, when the voice of Sara Van Valkenberg came to their ears, with an effect very much like a cold stream upon a bar of white hot steel.
"Anne, oh, Anne dearie, did you know the car was waiting for Prince Koltsoff?" She appeared in the doorway to find Anne turning over a magazine and the Prince adjusting his coat. "I beg pardon, but you said Prince Koltsoff was in a hurry. I thought you did n't know the car had arrived."
"We—I didn't," Anne smiled thinly. "Thank you."
They moved to the veranda, where Anne and Sara stood with arms intertwined.
"I am sorry, so sorry," cried Koltsoff, as he climbed into the car. "As I say, I shall possibly not return all night. At all events, au revoir." He turned to Anne and half raised his arm. "The trust," he said. She nodded and smiled.
"Have no fear, Prince Koltsoff," she said.