"His Highness has decided to leave the Netherlands," said Rénèe, with an air of finality.
Anne limped towards her.
"You hate me, don't you?" she asked, with some eagerness. "You said you hated me, once."
"I would have loved you, Madame, but you would not permit it—and—and some of your actions I needs must hate."
"Well, set yourself free of me," urged the Princess. "Help me to escape—I have friends in Cologne—I want to go to Cologne."
"Duprès and Rubens are there," was the thought that instantly stabbed Rénèe; she turned white and could not speak.
"There are some gentlewomen there I know," continued Anne. "I want to go there—help me escape. I will give you anything you wish for——"
"Oh, Highness, Highness," cried Rénèe, "you speak like a child. It is impossible for you to go to Cologne, or anywhere save to Dillenburg with His Highness."
Anne sat on the edge of the long box Rénèe was filling with clothes. Her pale blue eyes wandered round the room with a painful vacancy.
"I wish I were dead," she said foolishly. "I have never been happy."