She held a candle in a pewter stick in her right hand and her left clasped her dress together over her palpitating bosom.
“The Prince gave me leave to return to England,” he answered.
He stepped from his concealment into a room with polished walls, furnished heavily and well.
“You would not betray him after he has given you a Dukedom–you would not forsake me?” she asked anxiously.
“Do you not trust me?” he asked lightly.
“Oh yes, I trusted you. But you went away.”
“Always the same!” he exclaimed impatiently. “Have I not been faithful to return to you now?”
She began to laugh.
“Faithful!” she cried. “Faithful!”
He laughed too, and the echo was long and loud.