“I do not know. Whatever men label me, I think. To you at least I was a beacon of pure flame—was I not?”
“You have quenched that light now, Madame,” he answered quietly.
“I could not believe that you had not found out—till you came to-day,” she said. “And yet I wondered, too—for you are one of those who care——”
She rose, erect in the stiff folds of her brocade gown.
“So you will not come to Austria?” she asked.
He smiled. “Did you think I would? You know my ambitions.”
Some passion ran through her and tightened her whole frame; she clasped her hands together and pressed them against her bosom.
“Do you dare to despise me?” she cried. “Do you accuse me of fooling you?”
“I fooled myself,” he answered quietly. “You seemed to me wonderful.”
The real blood outshone the paint on her cheeks.