“You will, you must, you shall!” I said ardently. “I will be your master in the art of loving!”
“It is a difficult art!” she said—“I am afraid it will take a life-time to complete my training, even with my ‘master.’”
And a smile still lingered in her eyes
, giving them a witch-like [p 207] glamour, when I kissed her again and bade her good-night.
“You will tell Prince Rimânez the news?” she said.
“If you wish it.”
“Of course I wish it. Tell him at once. I should like him to know.”
I went down the stairs,—she leaned over the balustrade looking after me.
“Good-night Geoffrey!” she called softly.
“Good-night Sibyl!”