"But Anne—Miss Wellington!" The Prince was at her side. "You do not really intend to deny me!" He shook his head, as though dazed. "It cannot be possible that our understanding is so incomplete. I had dared to hope, to believe that our interests were so swiftly merging. And what is it that I ask! Merely a slight question about the D'Estang. Anne—is it upon so little a thing that you fail me? Would that you might try me with a bigger, greater test. You should see!"
"Do you mean that, really?"
"As God is my judge!" cried the Prince fervently.
"Then," said Anne seriously, "say good-night to me. Pardon me, but I am tired."
"But the D'Estang," cried Koltsoff insistently. "My plans—my life—"
"What!" interrupted Anne, as a thought was born of his words. "I understood that this was merely a matter of routine naval intelligence."
Koltsoff mopped his forehead.
"That is true," he hastened to say, "but matters of routine are the greater part of the lives of such as we. Our success depends upon it, alone. Pardon me, but I must insist that you tell me what I have asked." He had almost backed her against the wainscoting.
"And I won't tell you, Prince Koltsoff."
"Why not, pray?"